Affliction & Avarice
by melanie.deeee
Summary: Melanie is on a quest to deliver Middle Earth from a terrible illness that could tear it apart. In her travels she meets Aragorn and Legolas, and that's where her troubles really begin...
1. Chapter 1

It was a long and winding road from Philadelphia to Middle Earth. By the time I reached the rolling fields of Rohan, my steed was starting to get fatiged, it's breathing laboured. "Poor Moondancer," I said to my garreon, patting it's rump. "Just a little farther before we can rest. I promise." The truth was that I was feeling tired to, like a fever was coming over me. But I knew I couldn't balk. For in my rucksack was the cure to a deadly disease which was plaguing the land of Middle Earth. Some said it was the Ring Wraith's doing. Some even speculated that it was the Ghost of Sauron exacting revenge upon the people of Middle Earth. All I knew was that as a healer (and bad ass warrior), it was my duty to help all those effected by the disease. My name was:

**Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn**

That night Moondancer and I rested beneath an oak tree, under an umbrella of stars. We were almost out of Lambas bread, so my dinner was scare. I thought of home.

Just then there was some movement in the shadows. I could hear some gutteral growling from not too far away. Moondancer began to panic. I drew my sword. "I know how to use this, bastards!" I screamed. Who could be out hear at this time of night? Certainly not anyone friendly. Besides, the low-pitched sounds they made were very sinister. Just then a goblin leapt out of the shadows. Moondancer winnied and bolted. "One Ring!" I cursed, getting ready to attack. The goblin lunged at me with a make shift blade, but I parried the attack and stabbed it in the eye. But more were coming. I hoped Moondancer was safe, wherever he was going. Two more goblins attacked at the same time. "Don't mess with me!" I yelled. I was holding them both off for now, and I felt wary. Then three others came at me. More goblins were lurking in the shadows. It looked as if some of the darkened figures was drawing bows...

But then from out of the darkness came a man wearing a crown. He was equipped with gleaming armour, with a tree carved on the breast-plate. He carried a long sword, which he drew quickly, as if he'd been weilding swords all his life. "Get behind me!" he told me. He was handsome dark haired and bearded, with blue-grey eyes. I did as he commanded. "MEN!" he bellowed. Just then a volley of arrows came down, slaying most of the goblins. With expert swordsman ship, the man finished off the rest.

When all was done, he turned to me and said "I'm glad you're alright, m'lady. It's dangerous to travel alone, you know. Many beasts roam these lands nowadays. And it's gotten worse since the disease has struck Middle Earth.  
I blushed. He really was cute. He really seemed etheral, in a rugged sort of way. "That's why I'm here," I said. I was traveling to the Council of Elrond to deliver this potion. It's a cure." I rummaged through my sack, presenting a vile of mysterious purple-gold liquid to him. My uncle is an apothecary.  
He examined the potion. "I hope you're right about the cure. Hundreds have already died. Maybe thousands. And there will be many more to come." He sighed. "It is not easy work being a king."  
A king? I couldn't believe what he was saying! Though he was certainly good looking enough to be royalty.  
He got on one knee. "Allow me to introduce myself, m'lady," he said ruggedly. "I am Aragorn, King of Gondor. He gestured around him, as 20 soldiers appread. "And these are my loyal men." He pointed at one of the men, who unlike the others was dressed in a brown cloak and had long blonde hair and pointed ears. He was an elf, I realized. This was to be the first time I'd lay eyes on such a being. He was hot, but differently than Aragorn. His face was smoother and his skin fairer than Aragon's. "And this is my friend Legolas, of Murkwood. We're in the middle of a royal visit to our allies in Rohan, and just now we were leading a mission to eliminate a tribe of goblins which was raiding the area. But it looks like we've done it, thanks to you."  
I curtsied. "I'm Melanie. Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn."  
"A beautiful name for a beautiful lady," said Aragon charmingly. I blushed once again. "There's a castle nearby. Let's go there and tend to your wounds, shall we? And then we can see about this potion of yours."

We rode off toward the castle. I got to ride with Aragon, on top of his muscly brown stallion. I couldn't believe I was riding with a king! And a cute one at that. I felt some pain in my stomach and arms and legs, and noticed I'd been cut in a few places during the battle, but luckily none of the wounds felt so deep. Though I was still worried about Moondancer. Hopefully he would come back soon.  
Meanwhile Aragorn was talking to one of his men who rode beside him. "Captain Haldeir I want you and a team of your men to ride out to Rivendell on the morrow," he said. "The elves have better knowledge about medcine then we do, and Elrond will know what to do with Melanie's potion. Take it with you.  
"As you command, sire," said Haldeir.  
In the distance I saw the distant walls of a castle looming closer toward us. I suddenly felt very sleepy, like the day's events were catching up to me. I put my arms around Aragorn's waste and snuggled up to him comfortably, then closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep...


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke up I was still so tired from a headache but then it went away when I remembered what had happened. Before I was scared but then the king Aragon had rescued me and saved me from danger and we'd rode away. I was still so worried about Moonshine though. Where had she gone?

It was okay after a while though because when I woke up we were in a castle. I guessed that it was Rohan. That was where Aragorn had said they were going anyway. I woke up in a beautiful bed with white sheets and a silver blanket. It was made of wood and the whole room was basically made of wood too. I thought "Wow I've never been to Rohan…" And then I sat up in bed. It smelled like wood. I was about to get out of bed but the door made a creak. Someone was coming in!

I was hoping it would be Aragorn but instead it was his hot friend, the elf man. He waslked closer to the bed and then stood in front of it. He was wearing a green shirt that went down to his legs and brown pants. His hair shone even though it was kind of dark in the room because there were no windows. I wondered what kind of shampoo he used because his hair was almost as pretty as mine I think.

"You are awake" he says. "Yeah I woke up" I Replied, feeling kind of nervous because he was really cute. He smiles at me. "how are you feeling? You fell asleep so fast" he asks. I shrugged.

"I am fine. I wasn't sick. But lots of people in middle earth are so sick and I have the cure. Where is my bag?" I said. He frowns a little.

"it is outside I believe. I know Aragorn introduced me to you but I wanted to do it myself and say hello. So hello. You are very beautiful miss Goldenstark," he says. I blushed and I hoped he couldn't see that in the dark. It wasn't that dark though and I think he smiled at me blushing.

"Thank you Legolas but you can call me Lady Melani ok?" he nods. "Okay that is what I will call you. Do you want to come outside with me? The King of rohan is going to have dinner with us in the great hall of the Castle." I got out of the blanket and stood up.

"Yeah!" I was actually so hungry and I didn't realize it until that exact moment. Then we went outside into the great hall. There were already so many people in there, I couldn't even find Aragorn. Then Legolas says "Hey do you want to sit by me? I don't know anybody here." I nodded so then I followed him to a table where there was a bunch of food in huge platters The King of Rohan was sitting in a big throne in the front of the room. He stood up abruptly.

"Who is this with you, Sir Legolas?" he asked in a loud voice. I jumped and turned to look at him and stood up because he was standing and when the King stands you have to do that too. Legolas stood up and looked at him. "This is Lady Melanie T'Starlight von Goldenswan," he said. I bowed with a lot of respect. Rohan was a great place and I wanted to make sure the King new I was respecting him for having such an amazing land. The King's eyes widened.

"Lady Melanie! I have a suspicion about who you really are!" he said. Everyone in the room went completely silent. I was turning red and I took a step backward and ran into the table a little bit. I was really nervous. What was he saying? What did that mean?

"You are… the one who was missing!" he said. The one who was missing? What did that mean? "WHO are your parents, Lady Melanie?" he asked me again. I was really scared and when I answered him I was kind of quiet because I was so scared of what was going on. I really like Rohan. I hoped the King didn't hate me or something.

"My parents were bandits" I said really quietly. But it was a really big room so he could still hear me.

"The bandits! You were kidnapped from Rohan as a baby!" he said. I was kidnapped? No that couldn't be possible there was no way. "I can recognize you because….. You are my daughter!" Then I finally found Aragorn's eye across the room. He was looking completely shocked, but he was not as shocked as me. I was so surprised.

"What? No way," I said, completely surprised. "I am not your daughter!" The King looked realy surprised that I was even saying anything against him. I guess that is how it is when you're a king.

"I know it is the true. You have a birthmark on your shoulder that is shaped like a rabbit right?" I gasped. It was true. I did have a birthmark shaped like a little bunny. "So you are my real father…" I whispered, crying a little. It was really emotional to meet your real father. I ran up and gave him a big hug.

"My daughter… this means you are the true princess of gondor," he said when I was done hugging him. A princess? No way. I was a real princess. I was really excited to hear that and gasped and then tried not to smile too much because I had always wanted to be a princess. I was already a warrior so that meant now I was a warrior-princess. Then the King asked one of the servant people to fetch the box he kept safe in his room. He opened it. Inside was a beautiful silver crown, which he put on my head. I turned around and the everyone in the room was bowing to ME. It was really weird and I was so happy to finally find my real family. Just then there was a huge crash from the opposite side of the room. Someone had fallen out of one of the vents! I gasped and everyone turned around to look. There was a gremlin thing standing up and brushing himself off.

"I am dobby!" He screamed. "And I am from Mordor! I am here to steal the cure for the disease!" I ran to try and catch him before he could do that, completely shocked. But I was too late. My bag was right next to him and he lunged for it and then disappeared back up the vent.

I was totally surprised and really sad. Aragorn ran up to me and tried to make me feel better. I saw that Legolas was giving him a mean look but I didn't think about it because I was so worried and Aragorn was giving me a hug and he was so warm and that made me feel a little bit better. But now we had to get the cure back!


	3. Chapter 3

The room errupted in chaos. The king had to smash his hammer onto the desk like he was a judge just to shut everyone up. "SILENCE!" he bellowed. "We must not give into wanton hate for our enemy. We must be wise in the way we react to deviousness. We will reprieve the potion, make no mistake." he said.

"I will find it for you, and prize it from dobby's cold dead hands if I must," surmised Aragorn angstily. He was still standing close to me, and I could feel his valiance radiating off of him like an oven of bravery.

Then Legolas steps up. "I will go too!" he says. "And follow him to Mordor if need's be!"

Another woman whom I didn't know stood up too. "Make that three of us! We must get back the potion."

The king gave the woman a wary look. "Be careful in your quest, Eowyn. You are like a daughter to me. I would loath it for something to happen to you as well."

That's when I coughed nervously, clearing my throat. "I will acompany them too." I said.

The king has a started look on his face. "Daughter mine, you have only just returned to me! You must be kept safe for the time being. I cannot lose you again, I cannot bear the thought of such.

I felt all the eyes in the room being fixed upon me. "If I really am the princess of this land of rohan I must needs prove myself to my people." Aragorn sweetly squeezed my hand to comfort me, and gave me a resuring wink. That made me smile inside. I continued: "I am not only a healer but a good swordswoman and a keen hunter. I will help Aragorn find this retch Dobby, even if it measn climbing Mount Doom it'self!" The room burst into a round of applause. The king conceded.

"Very well my daughter, you shall aid Aragorn, Legolas, and Eowyn in recovering the vile of potion. But if anything happens to my daughter I'm holding the three of you responsible!"

"Don't worry my friend" said Aragorn "I will protect your daughter with my own life."

"And me too!" Legolas chims in.

So it was settled. The king let me borrow a mare from the stables to be my steed while Moon dancer was absent. It was a tough looking white horse, who I decided to dub Starlight Wonderer. And then we were off, as soon as we had arrived. We headed east in the direction of Mordor, although we all hoped that we would catch the nerfarious Dobby long before reaching it. Even with the dark lord defeated morder was still not a safe place to go. Orcs, goblins and trolls still roamed the land, and there was even troubling talk amongst the people that a new King of the Orcs had arisen. I certainly hoped we would locate the potion soon,; the sick people of Middle Earth was counting on us.

Sure enough on the second day of our expedition we came across some hills and Aragorn said "Legolas, what do your elf eyes see" and Legolas responds "Tracks. It may be belong to Dobby himself. So we rode to follow the tracks, which lead us further east to the opening of a large forest. That was when we decided to rest for the night. We put up a tent. Aragon asked me if I would help him look for fire-wood whilst Legolas went hunting and Eowyn minded the camp. So I said "sure", trying to oppress a nervous giggle.

The forest was vast and full of tall trees but we did not want to venture too far tonight; we were simply looking for firewood. "So tell me about yourself, Princess Melanie" ventured Aragorn. I didn't know where to begin! He probably lead a totally interesting life, and mine would shorely seem drab by comparison.

"I was raised by the people who I thought were my parents, but it turns out they were bandits all along," I sulked wistfully. "We lived in Philly but they died in a sking accident a few years ago. So then I went to live with my uncle who brews potions for a living. He lets me deliver potions sometimes so I've been on lot's of adventures and build up my warrior skills over time." I hoped I wasn't boring him or anything. "Sooo how about you?" I asked.

He thought for a moment "well my father was killed by orcs when I was a boy. Later I came to wander the land, and people would call me Strider, unaware that the blood of kings flow through my vains. Then the war of the ring occurred, and I helped the Hobbits deliver the One Ring to the fires of mount Doom. ASnd meanwhile I took my right full place as king of gondor and then married my wife Arwen."

HIS WIFE? I thought I was going to be sick. I was thinking that me (as a princess) would be the perfect match to marry king Aragorn, but now I was finding out that he was married already? "Life is not fair" I fumed internally. I just knew I'd be one hundred times the wife for him than this Arwin woman could ever be, but now Aragorn wouldn't even give me the time of day!

We picked up the rest of the kindling in akward silence whilst I tried to fight back the tears. Then we returned to the camp and with Eowyn's help we light a cracking fire. Shortly thereafter Legolas returns with two rabbits that he caught. He made stew. Whilst we were eating I could tell that Eowyn was stareing At Aragorn wistfully, too! Later Aragorn was fast asleep and Legolas is praying to his elvish tree gods, and it was just me and Eowyn talking under the vast starry night sky. "You know he's already married, right?" I said spitefully.

"I know" said Eowyn. "I've had a crush on him since the war but he only sees me as a friend..." she slightly changed the topic. "Hey do you have a boyfriend?"

"No" I responded. The truth was that nobody had caught my eye like Aragon did. I had plenty of admirers back home and in ROhan already but none of them was quite up to par with aragorn's rapturous smile and mysterious eyes. He was truly a men made angel as well as a king. "How about you"

She hesitated "I've been seeing this guy Faramir..." "But it's nothing serious. We only started dating cos he looked kind of like Aragorn if you squint and the lights are low." She sighed rupturiously. Then she got upset. "I'm hitting the hey." She said and went to sleep.

I was all along with my thoughts...of Aragorn, the way his muscles flexed and the way he hugged me earlier. I can't wait to tell his bitchy wife about that later, I schemed. Suddenly Legoland comes up to me "Hi princess" he says. "hi Legolass"

"I couldn't help see you sad earlier, like you were about to burst in to tears" he says. Very perceptive, I noticed, pleasantly surprised. It must have been his elf eyes.

"I'm just not quite myself lately" I replied hastily.

"You're very beautiful, Malanie" responds Legolas, inching closer towards me. "We elves have a word for fair maidens like you –_Faltherin_." The word rolls off the tongue like honey. I blushed for not the first time that day. "Sweet Melanie, _Faltherin_ I'll write a song about your pale blue eyes. It will be an epic sonnet. He lean in and kisses me on the cheek. Even though I was still in love with Aragorn I couldn't help but swoon at Legolas now too. He was sooo cute. Just not as cute as Aragon. "Come by my tent later, if you like" he says with a wink, then gets up and walks away. I blushed again, majorly.

Now I was left all alone with my thoughts all over again...


	4. Legolas

Legola is gone. I was all alone. Now I had to make a decision… should I go to his tent? Or should should I stay here where I was safe and totally not making out with legola/? No, he'd totally like invited me. I had to go and see what he wanted.

Melanie blushed a deep red when she realized that maybe Legolas wants… _sex. _What if I ended up having _sex_ with him? No no no I'd only met him yesterday – that was way too soon to have _sex_. So I decided ok, I won't have _sex_ with him. But I would go and see what he wanted.

His tent was not too far from the castle so I walked alone and wondered where Moonlight had gone. I still missed my royal steed. Now that I was a princess he was a _royal_ steed haha like instead of _loyal_! I chortled daintily as I made my way to the tent, which was shaped like a cottage but made up of yellow latex. I walked inside and was totally surprised to find that iw as actually was super comfortable! Even though everything was the same balloon latex stuff.

Legolas lets me in and smiled with a big smile. He was obviously happy to see me, since he was smiling. I bet he was totally expecting me because tbh he answered the door after one second. Then I walked inside the latex house and sat down on a yellow couch.

"I'm really so happy to see you," says the elf with glistening golden hair. I blushed again. He was so sweet. I loved that he was happy to see me. It was so obvious, since he smiled and stuff.

Then, he did something totally unexpected. He reached into a yellow closet and pulled out a Les Paul guitar in sunburst. My heart did a flip. Then, he sat down on a latex chair in front of the couch and he started to sing to me in the sweetest voice I had ever heard in my entire life for as long as I could remember.

_Booty call_

_You could be my booty call_

_You could be my booty call_

_Now drop those panties to the floor_

I was stunned. The song was more gorgeous than any I had heard before. He immediately takes my breath away, My hand floated to my chest as I tried to keep my heat from beating so wildly. How did he know? BROKENcyde was my favorite band. I listened to them on my ipod classic all the time when I was wriding Moonsailor.

Then he stopped singing and put the guitar back in the yellow closet and got down on one yellow knee . He pulled out a diamond ring with some leaves on it and held it out in front of me. "Mari, will you be my gf?" he asked solemnly. I thought my heart was totally about to explode or something. He was asking ME to be his gif? No way. I knew that Legola had a crush on me but I hadn't realized he was already so in love with me that he would ask me to date him. Well I guess he was worried about Eragon getting to me first, especially because of the way that Aragorn looked at me when I found out I was the princess and when Dobby stole my suitcase with the cure for the disease innit. Then I had to answer legolas. How was I supposed to say? I knew that I really loved Aragorn. This was a really really really tough decision, so I stared him in the eyes and I said, "Legolas, I love you. We should totally date and I will totes be your girlfriend okay? But you have to be my boyfriend too"

He said yes and we hugged. Then I thought about Aragorn nbut I knew I shouldn't think about him too much so I stopped. Then Legolas was like hey do you want to see my goldfish? I said yes and we looked at his goldfish named Vampire.

Then I was about to go back to the castle to be in my room when all of a sudden someone burst in through the door of the yellow room! Oh no! I gasped. Legolas also gasped. We were both really surprised and taken aback. There was a man there with long white hair and a long swrod and I was so scared. But since I'm a badass warrior chick princess, I actually wasn't scared. Then all of a sudden he introduced himself with his name.

"I am Lord sephiroth of the Kingdom of Genovia. Prepare to die, scum" he said. Then I went in front of Legolas and screamed.

"We our not afraid of you, Sesshomaru!" he frowned at us and then left. "Phew!" I said, reliefed. Legolas hugged me tight. He was so warm and I was happy.

Then the next morning we met Aragorn for breakfast of eggs in the great hall of the castle in Rohan in Middle Earth. Aragorn looked at us.

"Oh I see you have met! Let me introduce you," he smoldered. I was surprised. "That is my friend Legolas, of Mirkwood. He is an elf. I am so glad you two are friends now," he said, scooching over so I could sit by him. I sat by him and Legolas sat on my other side. We were so cute together.

Then after breakfast we went to the carnival. There was a hot air balloon and a ferris wheel. Me and legolas were holding hands and I could see that Aragorn was pretty upset by that but he married that stupid elf girl Arwin anyway, so what was I supposed to do? I just smiled at him because I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I made sure my smile was kind of sad and cold just in case he didn't understand that I was in love with him but I was dating Legola instead of him since he was married.


	5. Chapter 5

**[AN: Thing's get frisky. DO NOT READ ON IF YOU ARE OF A SQUAMISH OR PRUDISH DISPOSITION. It's rated T for Teen for a REASON. Also, reviews and comments are very much apreciated. My friends all love A&amp;A so far, but I want to hear YOUR feedback to!] **

There was a fairies wheel at the carnival, that which reached up to the cotton candy clouds in the pink blancket sky. The magnificant egg yolk sun was setting behind the mist-obscured felt mountains in the distance.

"Wanna?" inquires Leg o' Lass, as if reading mine mind. Mayhaps he was; so well versed in the womanly pleasures was his gentle yet commanding elfin touch...

"Yes, very much so," I reply sacchininely. "legless?"

"Yes babe?" he replies with his honeyed tongue as we made our way to the fairies wheel.

"I...I ily you. I ily you sooo much. I just wanted you to know."

"I ily yout to Melanie my love," Legolas responds. Then he kisses me on the leafy diamond ring he has just given me (which matched my gleming angelic eyes sooo well), then on each check sweetly, then finally frenching me on the mouth with passion.

So why was I still thinking of Aragorn?

A while later we got on the ffairy's wheel and ascended to the sky. Below us lay the kingdom of Rohan in all it's majesty. The fields and castles below were painted in the goldish glow of evening. As we rode we told each other about our lives. Legolass used to be a guard at Murk Wood, when he let the Hobbit and Dwarfs excscape in barrels. His father fired him for that. But as a prince he could easily attain a new job as an adventure. Like hunky King Aragorn, Legolas was also there at the Battle of the Black gate on that fate full day on which the Ring had been destroyed. But whenever he mentions Aragon, Legolasses voice seems to be flavored with a subtle bitterness, which I thought was passing queer, but I choose not too bring it up. I didn't want to spoil our date, after all. Then we were at the top. At that moment I sware we were infinity. The whole world was being our oyster as well. Then some fire-works went off in the sky, in the shape of green dragons making out. I took that as our queue.

We made out as well.

Much later we stumbled back into Lelagas' tent. We had been drinking jagger bombs and smoking weed reefers. I felt dizzy yet euphorick. So does Legolas. "Melanie!" he proclaims rapturiously, "I want to move inside you like a plow. I want to take your virgimity!"

"Me too my love!" I said, over come with exstacy. I couldn't believe it. I, Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn, was finally about to have _s e x_!

Sooo then we laid down on Legolas bed, which was framed in the Elfin mythhril murkwood wood. The blankets and pillows were stuffed with the feathers of giant eagles. Legolas caresses my gently, lying me down on the bed. He looks at me intensely. I nodded with equal intenseness. Then he begins to unrap my black goffik bodice, which I bought from Hot Topic many moons ago, as if unwrapping a present. I suppose my maidenhood was a present afterall: it was highly valued and sought after throughput every land I visited. Then I sensually undid his breeches. We were now in nothing but our undergarments. We dissolved into each other, like melting into one pure form of sweat and passion and pleasure. It felt soooo good. We dry humped for a fashion, panting like a small pack of exhausted wolves pursuing elusive prey. Then, when we could not handle the tension anymore, it was time too take of our underwear! Using my teeth as if they were razor sharp wolf fangs, I tore off his underpants to reveal his hidden treasure. Legolas manhood is over a foot long, and slightly pointed at the tip. Beneath his glorious shlong is a tuft of hair, thick and smoothe like a wolf's pelt. I put Legolas's pink gladiolus in my mouth, savoring the sweet bodily fluids. He grins chekily while removing my Sailor Moon panties, revealing the fleshy pink magnolia underneath. I was naked to Legolas physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and now sexually. He slowly creeps on top of my body like I was a tamed wolf and he is a wolfrider, and his pulsating magician's staff crepts closer and closer to my whisperimg eye... And then all of a sudden, Legolas is inside of me! It felt sooo good! And I was no longer a virgin! Yay!

Legolas moves inside of me. His thing feels soooo good in my private realm. We start out slow and gentle, but Legola eventually starts to pick up the pace. The feeling inside me was growing intense, like an upward spiral of sheer primale emotion. It was the most intense experience I had ever experienced. I griped my claws deep into the flesh of his pale back as he rides me methodically, like a machine. He seems to enjoy the pain, flashing me charming winks between thrusts. I could barely contain the sheer pleasure creaping all over me. I could hear him grunting from the exertion inertia. I was grunting too. The feeling was getting stronger and stronger, the thrusts harder and deeper until…. OMG! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) **I was about to climax! **( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I summoned all my willpower to delay the explosion of extacy that was about to occur, and I could tell so too was Legoass. But then…we just couldn't take it any more! Legolas and I both erupted in deep primal howling, like wolves crying underneath a huge yellow moon in the late spring. At last Legolas and I were one, wolves of the same pack.

After the sex we stayed naked in bed all night long. Legolas takes out a pipe and we shared it together, taking turns blowing smoke wolves into air. Then we had a deep discussipn about philosophy, like determinism. We determined that it was a load of nonsense, lmao. We eventually fell asleep in each others arm's, as one flesh. It was the most awesome night of my entire life.

The next morning we left the tent, our faces gleaming from last night's sensual experience. Aragon was standing over the fire place, frying some eggs. He was wearing a "Kiss the King" apron, and winked at us knowingly as we approached. I smiled at him. He smiled bak. _I may be going steady with Legolas now,_ I considered thoughtfully, _but Aragon could still make a good side guy when my feelings for Legolas inevitably start to wane._ It was a comforting thought. Eowyn was sitting there by the fireplace too, but she seemed a bit frazzled and out of it.  
"Have a nice evening"? Aragon inquired, offering us sum food.  
"You could say that, yeah, hehe. ;)" replies Legolas. "And you?"  
"Nice…uh, yeah, it was nice…" said Aragon shakily, shooting an awkward glance at Eowyn. "Listen, Bullet for My Bloody Valentine are in town this weekend, and I've got f4ur tickets. You guys wanna com?"

_OMG! B4MBV are in my top 10 last fm scrobbles!_  
"Hell yeah!" I whoop whooped excitedly, and we all laughted.

Besides, it wasn't like we had anything important to do in the not to distant future… Right?


	6. Chapter 6

Friday night.  
6pm.  
We were all in our tents, getting dressed for the Bullet for My Bloody Valentine concert that night. I had donned a black dress with black leggings and black shoes and black everything else. Eowyn was dressed in white, the poser. "What year is it?" I asked sardonically as I examined her unfortunate choice of getup. "1986?"  
"It's, like, 4E-something," she replied sullenly.  
"Are we going to a wedding, Eowyn, or a freaking GOFFGAZE concert?"  
"Goffgaze," she mumbled, staring at her tacky shoes.  
"Then friffing dress like it, BIATCH," I said, my voice rich with voluptuousness. Ever since Legolas and I had 'done the deed' (by which I mean had _S E X_), I had been in a very frisky mood. I wondered if Eowyn was still a virgin. _God, probably,_ I thought. _She goes around in armour wielding swords; who's going to want to get with that piece of work?_  
I applied my mascara, eyeliner and lip gloss with practiced ferocity. I looked stunning, like a regular femme fatale, or maybe more of a Bella Swan. I knew Legolas won't be able to keep his eyes off of me the whole night. And neither would Aragorn. Leaving the tent, an impious smile crossed my face.

Legolas and Aragorn were already ready, standing outside the carriage that would take us to our destination. I clung onto Legolas's arm tightly. His silky smooth Elven skin feels _sooooo_ good when it touches mine. Aragorn was listening to his iPod Classic. _What a refined, old-fashioned gentlemen,_ I couldn't help but gush to myself. _He doesn't just play MP3s on his phone like an unwashed Neanderthal, but still uses separate devices for different purposes. _I shot him a wink.  
"Babe, you look like the slender silhouette of an ethereal faun sprite, basking in the pale moonlight," Legolas croons, and my attention returned once more to my Elvin bae.  
"Thanks, babe," I purred. "Your Lothlórien cloak is almost as soft as your tender moonshine lips."  
We kissed passionately. Like wolves.

A few minutes later, Eowyn emerged from the tent, looking as dishevelled as ever. I almost felt pity for her. I suppose some people just aren't meant to get dressed up and go out.

And then, we were off to the concert.

The journey to the concert was uneventful, and mainly involved Legolas and I making out fervently.

Finally, we were there! Rohan's Pepsi™ Stadium (Proud home of the Rohan Direwolves®) was in full view, a colossal coliseum for a less bloodthirsty era. Tonight's circus would be a Goffgaze concert performed by none other than legendary Goffgaze pioneers Bullet for My Bloody Valentine. The bread would be the soulful hymns, heavy metal rockers and tremolo-laden experimental freakouts that sprang from the glorious mouth and nimble fingers of B4MBV lead singer/guitarist Tuck "Tucker" Shields. Who, by the way, is a total hottie. Not as hot as Aragorn or even Legolas, but I'd do him. As we made our way to the mosh pit, I silently prayed that there would be an after-party so my dream of getting with a guy in a band would be realised.

We found a nice spot near the barrier, next to a rowdy group consisting of a wild-haired young lad wearing a snapback, a bearded middle-aged gentleman dressed in leather armour, and a rather short fellow with blond hair, facial scarring and sophisticated medieval garb. I walked up to Ser Snapback, with swagger in my step.  
"Do you guys like the new ' v' album or are you more into their early demos and stuff?" I asked flirtily.  
"Oh, we're mainly here for the opening band," he responded, in a sulky English accent. I could have swooned. _What a patrician.  
_Then the opening band came on to the stage. It was an all-female group. The lead singer had silvery hair, purple eyes and tanned skin. She was adorned in a fine dress woven from Myrish silk or whatever.  
Ser Snapback pointed at her. "That's my girlfriend." He blew her a kiss.  
She spotted him in the crowd, and returned the gesture.  
Then she spoke into the microphone, which screeched obnoxiously. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. We are the Breakers of Chains. We are here to smash the shackles of this oppressive patriarchal society. One, two, three, four!"

Then they launched into a hard-hitting punk-rock jam with a decidedly Riot Grrrl attitude. While I found the lyrics a tad preachy (though I do admire the feminist sentiment), they were, musically at least, a pretty tight group. Think a slightly heavier Sleater-Kinney fronted by PJ Harvey, and you might come close to describing their visceral, balls-to-the-wall (no irony intended) fem-punk sound.  
"Your girlfriend is cute," I whispered sensually in Snapback's ear. "I'm cuter, though," I added with a teasing giggle. "And free tonight..."  
He grinned confidently. "I'm Jon Snow," he said.  
"Melanie," I replied. "Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn." Then I walked off to rejoin Legolas, who is bobbing his head to the music as if listening to smooth jazz. What a hipster. I couldn't help but like him, though. Like, _like _like him, that is. We slow danced throughout the rest of Breaker of Chains' half-hour set. 


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER THE SEVENTH**

[an NEED MORE REVIEWSSZ! It's hard beingf a teen i need more self gratificatshun!]

The lights illuminating the empty stage dimmed momentarily. A collective silence of anticipation fell over the thousands-strong audience, as we waited with bated breath for our heroes to emerge.

Then the lights were back on, and we saw that B4MBV had already come onstage under cover of darkness! OMFG! There was my muso bae, Tucker Shields, mere feet away from (and above) me! I got a raging fan boner right there and then! The entire crowd burst into fervent applause. Tucker bowed humbly at the crowd that had assembled for him and his band. Then he winked specifically at me! My heart skipped a beat, like that song by the band X or whatever. I looked up at Legolas' divine face, and I could tell that beneath his veneer of coolness, he is just as excited as I was.

Tucker pushed his glorious curly bangs away from his lean, handsome face as he tuned his sexy Fender guitar. "Thanks for coming out here tonight, Rohan!" he shouted in his angelic tone. "And a special thanks to Princess Melanie for gracing this venue with her august attendance! Meet me after the show so we can shower you with, um, free fan merch!"

The crowd burst into applause for my radiance, much louder than the applause for the actual band. Legolas swoops in front of my face and French kisses me with no holds barred, and I kissed back with equal passion. Aragorn, Jon Snow and even Tucker Shields himself all looked soooo jealous of our pure, undying love, and this made me smile with sweet satisfaction. Some wolf fireworks went off in the background, enhancing the festive vibe of the concert.

Then, without further ado, B4MBV launched into _Only Shallow Tears Fall_, which is one of my favourite songs by them! They played with such great energy and emotion that it sounded even better than the record! (vinyl all the way bitchezzz) It was the best goffgaze concert I've ever been to, and that's saying something, because I've been to at LEAST two or three! The band stayed on point for the entire duration of the two-hour set, and Tucker's stage presence was never anything short of electrifying. Pyrotechnics went off periodically, resulting in terrific awe from the mesmerised crowd. We at the front were awash in the subtle glow of the colourful screen display onstage behind the musicians. The combined mood of music and spectacle was truly breathtaking.

After _To Here Knows Where You Belong_, the band left the stage. Just then, all of us started weeping solemnly, upset that this cathartic aural experience had come to an end. I don't believe there was a single dry eye in the stadium. Except for Jon Snow, who just seemed to be moping a bit. I admired his hardiness, and I kind of wanted to make out with him, but Legolas is right next to me, so never mind.

So instead, I spoke up. "Everyone! Listen!"

Everyone listened.

"You know what we need?" I shouted to the crowd.

"What do we need, beautiful Princess Melanie?" the crowd asked in uncanny unison.

"A friffing encore, bitchezzz!" I screamed intensely.

The crowd went wild.

"Let's form a friffing prayer circle, so that B4MBV might return!"

So we all arranged ourselves into a perfect circle, arms linked. We all looked like some kind of humanitarian poster, only this was real life and we weren't trying to make any particular political statement.

I was between Legolas and Aragorn. Holding hands with both of them AT THE SAME TIME was like a dream come true for me!

We all hummed devoutly, eyes closed in deep spiritual longing FOR GOFFGAZE.

Aragorn whispered sensually into my ear in a kingly voice: "Gee whiz, Melanie! This prayer circle is a great idea! The band is certain to return for an encore now!" He gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. I was blushing sooo hard.

Legolas opens his eyes and he seems suuuper pissed off at Aragorn for some reason. "Well _my _appreciation for my girlfriend Melanie's idea is _far_ greater and runs _far_ deeper than _yours_. So _there._"

"Oh guys," I giggled understandingly. "Let's not ruin the prayer circle now!"

I glanced over at Jon Snow to see if he might join in on the veritable circlejerk of jealousy. But he seemed to be preoccupied, casting a worried glance around the venue.

"What's the matter, Ser Snapback?" I asked augustly.

"Tyrion, Bronn..." he said in a vacant, sulky British monotone. "Haven't seen my friends since the show started..."

"Maybe they've gone to get drinks," I suggested. Then a crimson shade of anger crept upon my royal face. "But they should be praying anyway, goddamn it! B4MBV aren't just going to encore _themselves_, you know!"

Just then, as if by magic, the band reappeared on stage.

The crowd went wild all over again, the circle gradually dispersing as we returned to our places.

"_Bullet For My Bloody Valentine! Bullet For My Bloody Valentine! Bullet For My Bloody Valentine!" _we all chanted ecstatically as they picked up their instruments.

Tucker cleared his throat and explained: "Usually we see encores as pretentious, and therefore consider ourselves above them. But since among our audience tonight is Melanie, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL WE HAVE EVER LAID EYES UPON, we have decided to make an exception.

The crowd changed their chant: _"Melanie! Melanie! Melanie!"_ I joined in on that one, too. It was only proper, after all.

"Come up here, Princess Melanie," Tucker Shields continued. "Play some tunes with us!"

Legolas gives me another kiss, longer and more intense than the last one. I love how he does that.

"Good luck, babe," he croons.

"How about you join me up there, babe?" I asked wisely.

So he does.

We got up on stage. One of the band members (I don't know any of their names aside from Tucker, lol) handed Legolas a Les Paul guitar, just like the one he has back in his tent. I got my own acoustic guitar, which was signed by every single member of the band, as well as pretty much every other musician I like.

The crowd was cheering for them, for us. For _me_.

Then we played an incredibly noisy, feedback-drenched cover of the soulful R&amp;B classic, _Stacey's Mom_.

"_Stacy can't you see,_

_You're just not the girl for me,_

_I know it might be wrong,_

_But I'm in love with Stacy's Mom..._

_Read more: Fountains Of Wayne - Stacy's Mom Lyrics | MetroLyrics" _I sang, gazing intently at my Elvin bae as he worked his fingers across the fretboard of his new instrument.

The concert ended with a deep sense of satisfaction for all attendees. For me most of all, because Tucker gave me a signed B4MBV shirt, as well as CDs, cassettes and vinyls of the band's entire discography. Then he gave me a kiss.

I could tell that Legolas is seething again with unadulterated jealousy, but I didn't care because Tucker is a friffing hottie. And besides, I'm a princess so this kind of thing is okay.

Just then the band's manager appeared onstage. He was wearing a cowbo hat and cowbo boots, and a gold star with the title of 'Sherriff' engraved on it. His handsome face had a plastic-y sheen to it.

"Well well why, by all the snakes that are being in my boots, that was being a totally terrific time of music and melodies as well! Just doing a letting of you fine folks know that the after-party is being at my house, and y'all are most certainly having a being invited to the shameless shindig and furthermore!" Sherriff Woody concluded.


	8. Chapter 8

(Guys I really need some reviews!)

Until that moment, I had lived my entire life without a shred of validation. But when I looked around at the throngs of concert-goers, buzzing with excitement, it hit me—I was born for this. _This_ was where I belonged, among the heat of the crowd and lights. The man I loved was to my side, one arm securely around my waist. He was my rock. The band I'd waited years to see was just making their exit. There was so much love between the members of the audience; how could I have gone so long without attending such an event? It was absolute bliss. I knew the feeling would last for days.

Sherriff Woody was like, AFTERPARTAAAAAAA- An after party! I knew there would be one, obvs after such a great concert there was no way there wouldn't be an official afterparty but I really hoped that there would be a person at the door to make sure it was only the cool people from the concert because I didn't want that biatch eowyn there, she was such a poser, and I wanted this party to be FUN. If there was an afterparty that meant I could maybe eve n end up the night in the arms of the beautiful and bonarific lead singer of B4MBI.

That movie was so sad, tbh I actually still cry sometimes when I watch it. When the deer dies I get really sad and I cry. Walt Disney was such a talented filmmaker.

SO basically when I heard about thea fterparty haha me well we all heard the after party was happening, so I went to find legoal and Aragorn and we all linked arms with me in the middle. We were going to make this enTRANCE in STYLE haha get it trance? Like trance music?

So basically when we were all linked together I brushed off my skirt and made sure my hair was falling over my shoulders in amber waves of grain. My hair was totally beautiful. After spritzing myself with my perfume we all started walking like they do in Mean Girls idk if you've seen that movie, it has Lindsay Lohan before she got messed up from all the Coca-Cola.

Then we started _The Walk._ Right left, right, left, we walked all the way down the causeway to the Bifrost, where we _Walked_ all the way to Sherriff Woody's house. His house basically was like the one in the Bling Ring which has Emma "Imported American Accent" Watson in it; she's totally hath. Me and Aragorn and Legoland pooled our energy with our crystal necklaces that let us synchronize to each other's psychological wavelengths. When we were all synchronized, we stopped to draw in simultaneous, steadying breaths. This kind of magic was _powerful_. It was like the One Ring To Rule Them All but real life version, not the flash animation.

I took out my iPad and showed my friends the videos, they were hilarious even though they were made in 2007. You should Google them. When we were done, I put the iPad back in my pocket and we continued Walking all the way to the house. Sherriff Woody's house was bascally like the Addams Family house, it was so goffick. I breathed in the scent of mothballs and cobwebs when we stepped inside, feeling more like Elvira by the second. What an amazing haus get it like haus music? Haha Andy Sixx is my boyfriend

We stepped inside. Everyone turned around to look at us, our arms linked with me in the middle looking coyly out at my adoring fans. They all gathered around us and lifted us into a beatific crowd surf, chanting my name again. In the backgroun | H 4 U $ version of the Star Spangled Banner was playing, with lasers flashing left and right and also in our faces so that we became the icons of Alice's Adventures in Middle Earth, floating upon our loyal followers until we were on a balcony that overlooked the rest of the haus. Staring out at them, I flipped my hair and tried to channel my inner Emma Frost. It was time for my Princessly Address.

"Hello fellow partiers, padfoots and prongs, proudfeet and other hobbits from the first part of _The Fellowship of the Ring._" _They all cheered._ "I am MEllanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn, and I want to use this poignant moment to usher in the first day of our holy festival, which I am now appointing as our most important holiday! It is the DeceptiCON. Everyone has to worship a character from the 2007 Michael Bay Transformers film for two and one half weeks. I Pick…."

Everyone waited in urgent silence. The lasers even stopped. In the background th | H 4 U $ version of the Star Spangled Banner still played quietly, sounding melancholic and dark like my dark soul.

"MEGAN FOX!" I finished. A surge of divine power coursed through me. Legolas kissed me passionately in front of our worshippers. Someone brought a life-sized cardboard cutout of Megan Fox and put her on the balcony. Only I pushed her over and I was like, "EXCEPT I WILL WORSHIP NO ONE, EVERYONE HAS TO WORSHIP ME DURING THE DECEPTI*CON*"

Then they were all cheering, and I felt even more valiated. Then I dived onto the crowd and someone gave me a martini which I sipped while they carried me around the house and up the stairs until I was back on the balcony.


	9. Chapter 9

Fireworks went off in the onyx sky above us, pulsing neon green vape tendril trails scattering themselves in such a manner as to form a bizarrely syncretic cubic patchwork which could feasibly be understood to be a crude representation of a digitally-simulated computer network painstakingly coded to resemble the aesthetic and emotional dimensions human beings in their collectively subjectivist yet painfully limited and limitlessly interpretable worldview might arbitrarily describe as "reality", similar to how it was depicted in the 1999 motion picture The Matrix and its two (lesser) sequels, and to a lesser extent the dated 1995 Angelina Jolie cyber-thriller, Hackers.

The trance-inducing, holistic nature of this gripping sensation suddenly brought into question the nature of my existence, and, by extension, the existences of those around me. In the infinite cyclical abyss of roughly one minute of human-defined measurable timeflow I concluded that reality is in fact a series of rough lead pencil sketches on a sheet of recycled paper torn haphazardly from a discount recycled-paper-pad purchased at a bulk-buy-discount-office-depot outlet for seventy-nine U.S. cents on one of those breezy Saturday mornings that seem to linger momentarily beyond our abstract and rigidly-structured measurements of time. Each sketch is erased using a pink phallic eraser but trace fragments remain, forming a jagged skeleton with which to trace over the next sketch, and so on. It is also within the realm of possibility, I surmised, that for each second that passes (or appears to pass), it is in fact the collectivist transcendental nature of sentient lifeforms to migrate unknowingly and instinctively between different realities of (minutely) varying ecological, technological and autonomic progress. Time is static, an Atlantic glacier resting obliquely and being agonisingly gnawed upon by the tropical salts of the South Pacific, and all conscious beings are in fact interdimensional nomads wandering directionlessly between universes.

My train of thought was interrupted when my Elven bae walked up from behind me and gave me a big ol' smooch on the lips. I love it when he surprises me like that.

"Nice party, babe!" he says earnestly, clearly impressed by my royal organisational skills.

I had to agree with my pointy-eared heartsweet on that count. The party was going smashingly well so far, to coin a phrase. We were in Sherrrriff Wode's backyard**(1)**, experiencing a seamless prolongation of the night's euphoria well after the conclusion of the B4MBI concert. Not that I smoke or anything (straightxedge bitcheeezzzz), but it reminded me a bit of the act of enjoying a post-coital smoke, which Legolas and I indulge in whenever we have _sex, _which is all the time these days**(2)**.

All around me I saw revelry and unabashed intoxicated joy.

I saw: a familiar-looking little man riding piggyback on his much taller bodyguard, both of them carrying half-drunk cans of Bud Light. They were surrounded by a group of scantily-clad women, all of whom were giggling at their witty jokes.

"They're gettin' the D tonight lol," Legolas observes with his keen (and sexy) Elven vision.

"I know someone else who might..." I said with a teasing wink, thinking of Aragorn.

Then I remembered that Jon Snow had been looking for his friends during the concert, and made a mental note to inform him that I had seen them right now in the present moment, though due to the collective human dimensional universal migration constantly marching ahead without anyone's (except mine, because I'm perfect) knowledge, it would not in fact be the present moment when I next lay eyes upon that hunky Nightswatchman, but an indeterminate future**(3)** moment instead.

But then, as if by some force of magic**(4)**, Jon Snow appeared, greeting his lost friends with a beautiful brodude fistbump and his characteristically unchanging facial expression, which was as if it had been forged from some kind of titanium alloy or something. "Tyrion! Bronn! I thought I'd lost you guys..."

"The only one who's _lost _tonight," Tyrion replied in a slightly slurred, not-quite-believable attempt at a Medieval English accent, "Is _you_. Because while _you've_ been off sulking, _we've_ gone**(5)** and _found_ ourselves some pretty new ladyfriends!"

Their gaggle of ladyfriends burst out into a synchronised fit of flirty giggles, which resembled the mating call of some kind of aquatic mammal.

"Oooch, oooh aye, this is quite the party indeed, isn't it lads?" said Bronn the bodyguard. His thick Scottish accent gave me a pang of longing for my ex-boyfriend, Shrek.

I hurriedly turned my gaze back to my Elven bae, and proceeded to make out with him for roughly twenty minutes, as Merzbow's Greatest Hits (Kidzbop Version) blared out Wode's mansion's bass-heavy soundsystem.

I saw: that skank Eowyn by the pool, in the throes of a heated argument**(6)** with her kinda-cute boyfriend, whose name is Faramir.

Faramir - "I can't believe you right now! Do you have any self-restraint anymore? Like at _all_?"

Eowyn - "Don't use that tone with me!"

Faramir - "What tone?"

Eowyn - "That disrespectful accusatory tone you always hide behind whenever you're mad."

Faramir - "Disres- Hahaha! Wait just a minute. _Disrespectful?_ After you went to such great lengths to disrespect _me_? Do you ever stop and listen to the crap that comes out of your mouth sometimes?"

Eowyn - "Better than the dull drivel that comes out of _yours_. Face it, Faramir. The only reason this even happened is because our relationship - if this can even be called a _relationship _anymore, by the One Ring - has grown stale!"

Faramir - "..."**(7)**

Eowyn - "Just admit it."

And then into the scene strode Aragorn (lol, geddit), hand glued intently to the hilt of his mithril sword, ready to cut a fool down.

"Excuse me, sir," he addressed Faramir, his cute gravelly voice flavoured with an undercurrent of venom, "But are you right now, in front of all these revellers, daring to question the fair maiden Eowyn's honour?"

"Funny I should hear that," replied Faramir with suppressed rage, preparing to draw his own sword, "From the very man who helped defile it..."

Just then they leapt into battle. The music suddenly changed from Merzbow to the Final Fantasy VII boss battle music**(8)**. They circled each other for a few blindingly intense seconds, before erupting into a deadly dance of steel and sparks.

But the battle was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Aragorn stabbed Faramir in the chest, and then pushed him into the swimming pool**(9)**.

The crowd burst into applause for the royal victor, even louder than the applause for B4MBI earlier that evening, but not as loud as the applause had been for yrstruly.

Just then, a hunky blond guy wearing a black robe with a badge with a snake on it walked up to me. He was holding hands with a pale goffick girl with sharp fangs and a gratuitous amount of mascara plastered on her petite face**(10)**.

"Princess Melanie," he said in a smooth yet husky voice. I was already developing a crush on this sexy young man, and I didn't even know his name! lol.

"How can I help you, babe?" I asked him, reaching out and sensuously stroking his left ear in a purely ceremonial manner as befits a royal type person such as myself.

He bowed graciously. "My name is Draco Malfoy, if it please your highness. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have a few words with you once the party is over. I have a proposition in mind which your august person might just find...irresistible..."

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. Wode's house and backyard were very minimally furnished and in fact didn't have a roof or walls or a ceiling, instead resembling the set of the movie Dogtown. You know, the one with Naomi Watts?

2\. At least every day, and not uncommonly multiple times in one night. What can I say? We're such frisky wolves of love and passion. ;)

3\. I refer to the "future" here only in a colloquial manner of speaking, as we both know that the passage of time is actually an illusion. Time stands perfectly still, and _we _are the ones that are always marching on.

4\. Or perhaps just sheer contrivance to drive along this bloated and meandering storyline as quickly as I possibly can.

5\. Halfway through the concert, they had snuck off to a nearby brothel called The Lusty Seamstress. Luckily for them, the TV in the waiting area had been live broadcasting the B4MBV concert anyway, so the pair had veritably experienced the best of both worlds that night. High fives-all round. :^)

6\. Stemming from accusations of infidelity on Eowyn's part.

7\. Faramir was desperately attempting to form a coherent response here, but he was so blinded by rage that literally no words would spill out. It happens sometimes, when you're mad. Anyway, I'm sure you'll agree that it's often preferable to simply say nothing until you've calmed down enough to look at the situation more impartially, rather than just vomit out barbed taunts and harsh insults you'll later come to regret.

8\. Composed by Nobuo Uematsu.

9\. Amazingly, Faramir survived the encounter and ended up making a full recovery. He went on to amend his ways, and has remained on decent (but strictly platonic) terms with his now ex-girlfriend.

10\. Oh yeah, and she also sleeps in a coffin, apparently. What a poser. If you ask me, I am _faaaaar _more worthy of that cute boy's attention than that tart will ever be.


	10. Chapter 10

He took my by the hand too a forest which was near Woody's house and the trees from the forrest was what Woody build his house out of even tho Woody's house was actually a stone castle like Winterhell in Game of Thrones.

Draco and me stopped and sstood at a clearing were there wasnt any trees in the way but there was one tree and it was Jenny tree the talking tree with a face and if u don't no who jemmy TRee is then u need t2o geht out of my Face you pleniban!

So reverently we approach jenny tree and the clearing without trees except jenny tree is so super quite so quiet in faact that I can here mine own heartbeak which is thrumming steadily like a marching drum beat and i can also here Draco's heartbea beside me and for a second our hearts are in sync and it's sooo romantic and I want to kiss Darco soooo badly but he already has a gf and besides i would never cheat on legola exccept for the Tim e i kissed Kevin shields like a couple of hours ago but thst was different cos Kevin shields was im a band and i'm sure Logoless would understand.

Anyway we bowed to jenne treee when we where near her be cos she is the queen of the trees and bowing is super polife even if ura primcess yrself tahts wot my dad told me NOT MY FAKE BANDIT DAD my real dad the king of rohan.

"Melanie daughter of the kind of Rohan and Draco son of LLucrecia, riiiiiiise," she said in a deep crokey bluesy jazzy voice_kind of like a female Tom Waits tom waits is a pretty good singer like his voice is an acquired taste but he'\s written some really interesting songs check out his album Rain Dogs available im music stores and online retailers and srteaming services everywhere.

We rose like budding flowers in the spring (lol geddit) and Drac saiys "I have bought princess Melanie the Exquisite" and Jenny tree replied "yeah so it would seem"

So I was all like "how can I help you Jenny Tree"

And then jenny tree was like "As u may no I am at eternal war with my ecvil sister Jenny Death" and I was like yea I do know that and then jenny tree continues "well my secret network of bothan spies has informed me of that they have located Jenny Death stalking Hogwarts which is this wizarding school in Scott land and Scot tland is a town in England and the students are at risk and we believe that Jenny Death is hiding within the school still and trying to draw some kind of power from the magical properties therein so manybe shes still at Hogwarts?"

"So I was all like rreplying" okay so were do i fit into this hole predicament lol?

And then Jenna Tree says to me she says "melamie i want you to enroll at Hogwarts this year and go undercover and track down Jenny Death and termimate her life." Then she said "do it for me, jenny tree" and then she winked and one of her teeth sparkled which was impossible cos she was a tree and her teeth were made of wood.

"And jenny tree has given me the honour of being your partner for this top secret covert mission" draco eexplained impudently and I was swooning internally but then I was all like "k cool but can i bring my frienmds and jemmy said sire the more the merrier lol so I was like cool okay ill tell legola and Aragon and may be Jon snow to and we can get ready to go to Hogwarts and jenn was all like Great!

But then I asked "why have you chosen me pacifically for tthe mission tho I am just an ordinary badass teenage warrior healer princess with a gorgeous face and petty hazel eyes y me pacifically?"

And then Jenna Tree started saying something about a prophecy or something but then she started coughing so I couldn't make out exactly what she said but I think I got the jist of what she meant so I curt seyed and me an Draco walked back to the party but as we were walking back thru the clearing with no trees in it except for jenny tree who is a tree but then we heard jenny tree call out "THOU ART COURAGEOUS PRINCESS MELANIE COUGH COUGH"

And then draco explained later that if I helped him complete the mission for Jjenny tree then she would help with my own quest as retribution so I was like "what quest" coz I don't remember ever being on a quest all I remember is making love to legolass and daydreaming about making love to aragom and he drakkko looked at me really sardonically and his sardonic expressiom is pretty cute b t dubs and he said ,"Teh quesrt to heal the ppl of Middle earth from the disease of course! Dont u watch the news? Thousands more has died since you originally came to miffle earth from Philly!"

And I was like "the liberal media is so full of lies and bias and tbh all its doing is perpetuating a culture of fear to encourage ppl to place all their trust and hard-earned tax money in the corrupt big monachy! Even tho as a member of the monarchy I benefit directly from this so idk y im complaining about! but yeh" tho that being said I could vaguely recall something about an affliction and a potion concocted by my late uncle who is still alive btw he was just late to Finnish the potion he shouldv dun it earlier coz then more lives would have been saved!

And then he said "if you help me find jenny death then we will helpyou find d. obby and that is a promise.

It took me a few secs to remember who dobb y is but then I rember he is little golbin man who stole the vile of potion form yrstruly. I flipped my moonshine amber hair heroically for making the connection so quickly. I am spoppooo smart! But not like I'm a nerdy way or anythin lol.

so anyway we went bak to the party and I was totally exited too tel the others that we where going to be Hogwarts students and I wandered witch house (geddit witch house I have a girl crush on Alice Glass! but im not a lesbian but i dont have anything against lesbians or anything i'm just not one!) I was going to be sorted into and I hopped I wud b sorted into Slytherin tbh bc cos looking at Draco in the green-tinted moonlight I knew I wouldn't mind letting him slytherin! lms if u get the joke


	11. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

I, Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn, was sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, across from Legolas, whose razorfang eyes were clamped ever so tight by the rusting rustic lead shutters of urban despair, Thatcher's grimacing reprise, pupils gleaming darkly like a circular storm-raged ocean disk among the gods' misplaced shards of lightning fragments on a lenticular theatre set. He was in that moment engaged in the telepathically fatiguing process of dissecting a primordial exoladybug in Vanuatu, so that he might glean some spark of valuable insight into the nature of these dimly-glowing elusive transdimensional beings who held together the very titanium elastic bands of the burgeoning universal sigh.

I sipped on my soy mocha, admiring my bae's emotional hardiwork, when before the very eyes of my fluttering fingertips I did witness the temporary metamorphosis of Legolas from the handsome woodland elf with whom I was of late copulously engaged, into the form of two human beings hitherto unknown to my conscious soul. Curiously, while the transformation was in process it appeared as though the transitory form of this being was in fact comprised of seventeen hundred of the very same species of ladybug Legolas had just the minute before been hacking at remotely by means of telepathically controlling a sentient scalpel located in an entirely different continent from the one we were in now, which was Europe.

The two persons, once the transmorphosis was complete, gazed upon me knowingly, both of them seeming to possess an almost suffocating air of awareness in regards to this temporally fractured universe of which I am (it would seem) an intrinsically irreplaceable element.

The male, whose name is/was/will be Alek door, who is quite tall, who has a head full of gleaming blond hairs like an autumnal morning, who is all jeans and flannel shirts and bruises and malfunctioned ears, who speaks with a mild Australian accent, spake: "Hey, Melanie. You're probably wondering what's going on here. We're writers."

The female, whose name is/was/will be Saya, who is shorter, who has a better fashion sense than her associate, who wears an absorbing pair of dark eyes upon her eyes, who wears a hijab, who speaks with a cool Chicago accent, spake: "If there's anything you want to know about this vision quest upon which you find yourself eternally trudging, or the reasons for your myriad of trust issues and emotional fickleness, well...now would be the time to ask."

I inhaled deeply, sucking a stray battalion of metaphysical urban chainsaws deep into my being, then releasing them into the heady multiverse of worlds like an unchained kite, that they may soar through the air and eventually collide, fatally, with the chest or skull or fingertips of some hapless passerby, embedding themselves mercilessly. Then I stared at the plastic cup of soy mocha I still had clasped 'tween my bony fingers, almost empty it was of the sweet liquid I had over the course of the last half-hour been idly sipping upon.

"Yeah, could I get a refill?" I asked pensively, releasing yet another fatal flurry of chainsaws upon the writers at point-blank range.


	12. Chapter 12

"_Could I get a refill?"_

"_Could I get a refill?"_

_Could I GET a reFILL?_

_COULD I get a REfill?_

_Reeefiiiilll_

_Reef_

_A coral reef_

_Corallians_

_Reefer_

_A cold reefer_

_of pot_

_juice._

These are the words that echoed in my beautiful, vacant head while I held my cup out to the two strangers. The Alek and the Saya shot me a knowing look and I waved my hand when they didn't respond to me and mine humble requesteth. This is _nawt_ how a princess is supposed to be treated, and this I know for a _fact_. So I basically leaned in closer to the blond beside me (not the Alek haha) and nuzzled my face into his neck. I sat up properly like a lady again to look at him and something peculiar happened. Where there was once a smooth and vibrant neck there was now a bristly bustling brown beard, burying the skin of my beautiful bae. In fact, my bae was nowhere to be found. The Alek and the Saya had backed away and when I turned to look at them I realized the Hogwarts Express had expanded considerably, so they were the length of a cool ICU hallway away from me. That stands for "Intensive Care Unit," in case you're a phony or a faker or an ignoramus doofus.

My eyes went wide like the opening to another dimension or the open part of a two-gallon milk carton if you cut it in half for the purpose of kindergarten arts and crafts in September of 2005 _anno domini._ The music in the background turned to slightly samba/reggae/electronica rendition of Pink Floyd's smash-hit single from the generation of our fathers, "Back in Black," released by the publishing houses HarperCollins and Hooters, Inc. It was the worst thing I had heard in four decades and it matched my feelings perfectly as I gazed into the eyes of the man beside me, glaring with the heat of a thousand fallen suns congregating in the depths of Hell fire itself in order to take revenge on Lucifer for striking them from their lofty positions in the skies of many planets in a far-off galaxy that is also very hot, since I'm trying to make this heat metaphor really hit home.

"It's you…" I started, my eyes forming an _o_ like a doll from an exotic nation whose culture I have successfully appropriated in one fell sentence. "Captain.. BARBOSSA from PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN FILMS 1-8!" I gasped, standing. I would have hit my head on the ceiling above our little area in the train but since I'm a princess it moved and I could stand up to my full stature of a humble Princess height. I pointed my finger at him. "WHAT ARE YOU DOINg HERE CAP'N CRUNNCH?" he shoots me a swashbuckling glare.

"Aye, tryin' ter finish me eduh-cay-shun at the Hogwart" he says, waving his arms around in order to provide some emphasis to his pirate words. I want to take his pirate had and shove it on his face he makes me so angry.

Here is the problem with CAPN' barbossa. In the first POTC film he was totally a bad guy. Then, just like in vampire diaries, he became one of the good guys who hangs around the other characters and is not even a real threat anymore, much like the likes of my bae Damon Salvatore or even that skank Katherine Pierce and Klaus in season four so what I am so upset about is not just my empty Starbucks cup that reminds me of my vacant soul and personality but the fact that writers have found ways to force me to empathize with Bad People™ and that is something that makes me quite uncomfortable, like a rat in a maze with no sense of smell. Mostly that's pretty cruel, I think, to force your readers to consider that a character whose actions indicate evil actually has a shred of good in them and therefore, a dynamic personality that you may even be attracted to.

THAT is the prob with the CA'PN.

So I point my finger at him and wave it in a quick, graceful circle above my head. The ceiling moves out of the way again so that I may do so without the constraints of an actual, physical setting for the story to take place in.

"since when do U have an education at Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft &amp; Tennis College Prep School of the Arts?" I ask coquettishly. He smokes a pipe like that hottie aragon in the fellowship of the ring, being the first part of the lord of the rings trilogy. I'm pretty sure every female in the theater's ovaries exploded from being turned on which is why I was forced to systematically destroy them all so they wouldn't touch my OTL (kawaii smiley throwing sparkles)

"Since FEREVER," says barbossa, rolling his eyes at me. He's such an old pedo.

"Ya rite," I type into my gold iphone 5s with a Nick Carraway case before showing it to him so he can read my words instead of being graced with my actual princess voice. If I talk 2 him to much he will proz fall in love w/ me and idk if I can even handle all the guys who want me to be their gf. I'm with legola , obviously.

Just then Drako appears behind me.

"Hey snufflerumpkins," he says seductively, reaching out to wave his hand in front of my face in a semi-circle in order to get my attention. "U look so cute fighting with Barossa. Is he giving u some trouble so I should punch him in the face w/ my wand?" I smile a daring smile at draco and shrug several times like Kristen Stewarts.

"No honeycakemon, that's totez fine. I can punch him in the face with MY wand which is obviously a fiber-optic solid state memory core." So I take out my high-tech wand and punch CAP in the face with it and then he scowls at me swashbucklingly.


	13. Deer Legola

_Deer Legola,_

_Happy one month annaversary Legolas my love! The last thirty one ish days has been some of the best days off my life! The time we met wen you saved me form goblins but not my trusty stead Moonbeam whom is still missing, the time we did the frick frack paddywhack and yuo gave a she-wolf a bone ;) and the time you played that romantic snog Booty Call for me, the time we went to the concert and I kissed Tucker Shields (sorry for that b t dubs) and the afterpartay; all of these memeories occupy special places in my heart like a country occupying another country liek World War2 but that still happens actually and that's sad and I wish ppl could just get along and not invade each other_

_Anyway, look, I know this hasnt been 1 month yet but the truth is i'm writting this not just as a love letter 2 u but as a promise to myself that well still be dating by then. I kno that sounds horrible but the onus is not on you cos tbh your the best boyfriend on earth including but not limited to Middle Earth;, but I am a lousy girlfriend and I always went what I cannot have. Like for instance, when I'm in a relationship with someone I always want to be in a relationship with someone else, and maybe it's just a grass is greener thing idk, but tbh i am sooooooo sorry if I sometimes seem detached form you or flirt with other guys I promise i'm not dissatisfied with the way you treat me it/s just that... well I guess Im a lot more insecure then I let on. Like I know I act like a emptyheaded ditz most of the time, and maybe i am a bit of one really lol, but tbh it's also kind of a defence mechanism for me to act that way instead of living up to my responsibilities... like I'm supposed to be a princess and a badass warrior and a healer and a daughter and a friend and a devoted girfriend...but sometimes I don't feel like I'm any of those things...like sometimes it feels like I'm two separate people or something._

_And idk how all that even started, like maybe i've always been a little this way, but tbh I guess a lot of it comes from issues with one of my exes, Shrek. He seemed like such a great guy at first and we always used to hang out together in his swamp and make waffles but I guess that deep down all that glitters is gold and only shooting stars brake the mold because I found out that that two-faced ogre FRICK was cheating on me with that skank Fiona and his talking Donkey friend at the SAME TIME and tbh ever since then I've found it hard to trust and stay with one guy at a time and I'm sooooo fickle and sooooo insecure and I'm soooooo sorry if I haven't been the girlfriend you deserve Legolas my love, my sweet mithril rock, my darling faltherin (did I spiel that rite lol) pls don't leave me!_

_Ah, who the friff am I kidding, I'm probably just gonna end up burning this. But tbh I'm glad I wrote this down, I guess my emotions are a bit clearer now that I can read this to myself._

_I really do ily you my sweet Elven bae, and regardless of whether you end up reading this I hope you know it's true. And I really do hope we'll end up having a one month anniversary, and maybe even a one year anniversary after that. ^-^_

_My eternal ily,_

_Princess Melanie of Rohan and Philadelphia and your heart lmoa_

_xpxpxpxpxp_


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Fangs 4 all da positive reviews! Keep em coming guys!**

* * *

We all sailed to Hogwarts aboard Aragorn's royal barge. The whole gang was there (as in, pretty much everyone we've encountered in the story so far**(1)**, which I guess is incredibly convenient or whatever). All around our ship were the other students in old, rickety little rowboats, paddles crudely slicing the still water beneath, and tbh I was a little bit astounded by how lax Hogwarts' safety procedures appeared to be. At least Aragorn had posted guards on the deck, all armed with crossbows, in preparation for a giant squid attack or something.

Legolas stands at the fore**(2)**, gazing upon the deep lake and the mist-obscured castle that loomed in the distance. He seems to be lost in thought. "Hey we hats up babe?" I asked him, only I actually didn't because I didn't want to distract him or anything, lol.

So instead I walked up to Draco, who was on the...bridge? idk what it's called. He was dressed in a tuxedo and his dreamy blond hair was slicked back and he looked a little like James Bond or something. _All he needs is a gun and some secret gadgets,_ I thought snarkily, before noticing that strapped to his Batman-style utility belt was a gun that fired magic wands. He was in a cautious pose, as if ready to pounce on some prey at a second's notice. So I came up from behind him and planted a big kiss on his cheek**(3) **and began to rub his shoulders sensuously, but only as a friend.

"Relax, Snugglemuffin!" I ordered in a regal tone.

Draco stared at me, entranced by my blitheness. "I can't afford to relax! She's there, you know," pointing in the direction of Hogwarts, toward which our ship was steadily inching. "And we both have to be ready when she strikes."

"Lol, who?" I asked all-knowingly.

"Jenny Death!"

"Oh yeah..."

We arrived at Hogwarts before we even knew it. I was soooooo excited to be studying there, but I hoped they wouldn't make me wear those lame-ass wizard robes and those nerdy hats. Black isn't in right now, and stupid robes and pointy hats are _never_ in, unless you're part of some stupid cult or something.

At the main entrance was this guy who was distributing pamphlets with pictures of Karl Marx on them and... like, okay, Karl Marx? Puh-lease. I mean look at that scruffy-ass beard and balding head. Who the h*eck does he think he is? He needs to stop worrying about Capitalism and pen a friffing FASHION manifesto instead. He might teach himself a thing or two.

It then dawned on me suddenly that Karl Marx and Captain Barbossa are, in fact, the same person.

Upon closer inspection I noticed that the pamphlet-distributor was none other than Harry Potter, who has the distinction of being the only survivor of an incredibly powerful dark wizard who was too stupid to have a gun as a backup in case his wand backfired. But instead of the famous lightning bolt, Harry Potter's scar was now in the shape of a hammer and sickle**(4)**.

"Greetings, comrade," he addressed me proletarianly. "Would you care to join my heroic working-class struggle to overthrow the corrupt liberal FRIFFING bourgeois one-percent?"

"Actually," I explained, "I'm a princess."

Harry scowled at me, in the deep guttural loathsome moan of the ninety-nine percenter posers. And with that, we all moved hurriedly along to the Great Hall.

The Great Hall of Hogwarts is a huge room in the heart (and hearth, cos it has a fireplace lol) of the castle. The ceiling was illuminated by two grand columns of candles, and above me I could see some kind of illusion of the sky. It was like magic! But then I saw static flicker above like a snowstorm, and I realised that it was all just a cheap VHS display. The four huge house tables were packed with students, excited to begin a new year of wizardry, shenanigans, and, if the last few years were any indication, certain death for any number of them.

Dumbledore, seated at the high table at the back of the hall, was in the midst of a fervent Headmasterly address as we entered. It seems that he'd finally realised his pervy purple robes weren't exactly doing him any favours, and so he'd eschewed them this year in favour of a tight-fitting white t-shirt, a white sweatband, white sports shorts and white Nike sneakers. His new get-up made him look like some kind of wizened old ghost, and maybe, I reflected sadly, this was bizarrely appropriate. R.I.P. Dumbledore. I also noticed that hanging behind him were two crossed Dunlop tennis racquets.

Spake Dumbledore: "As you may have noticed, things are a bit different at Hogwarts this year. For one..." he gestured at his own attire with an air of insatiable smugness, "I've discovered the wonderful game of tennis!" he then, without any warning, launched into a rambling, hour-long speech in praise of the game**(5) **and concluded by stating that not only would the school's Quidditch pitch be converted into a tennis court as soon as magically possible, but that Tennis would now be a mandatory elective for all Hogwarts students (a collective groan erupted from the bowels of the student body, with a few stray, seemingly-earnest "woohoos" provided courtesy of the vocal minority of students who, while sports enthusiasts, felt that Quidditch was an incredibly unbalanced and silly game; a sort of "Calvinball on Broomsticks" as one particularly eloquent student once put it). "Oh yeah," he said, concluding the first of many speeches he'd planned for the night, "and if I hear _anyone_ call me "Professor" this year, you WILL be expelled. Call me 'Coach Dumbledore' or call me nothing at all."

Continueth Dumbledore: "Furthermore, the Triwizard Cup will take place this year, only this time, all events will involve tennis in some way. This year's Triwizard Cup is brought to you by Dunlop, proud inventors of the new Dunlop Racquet Wands (TM): A Little Magic In Every Serve(TM)!"

Continueth Dumbledore (still): "Now onto unrelated news, we are very proud to be graced by the presence of some very special new students!" a cheap theatre floodlight focused its flickering electrical beam, a bludgeoning approximation of the subtle colour of moonlight, upon my august person. "Students, please welcome into our castle THE LOVELY BEAUTIFUL DIVINE PRINCESS MELANIE! Such is the radiance of her beauty that even _I _find her strangely alluring!" The old man chuckled good-humouredly.

The spotlight was (literally) on me, so I _Pishaww_ed gracefully and waved halfheartedly by means of response. I think I'm really getting the hang of this royalty thing. A fever of fervent applause erupted from the heart and mind and soul of the student body.

"Oh yeah," Dumbledore continued again once more, "King Aragorn and Prince Legolas and Lord Commander Jon Snow and a whole myriad of others will be joining us, too."

A few scattered claps.

"One more thing," Dumbledore continued once more again for the last time now I promise, "Our old Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher died of the plague, so joining us to take his place is my dear old friend," gesturing to a woman at the table to right, who looked kind of like a Spriggan**(6) **in an Ice Queen get-up, "Professor Jennifer D'Morticia!"

Draco called me on his walkie-talkie, so I put my own gold-plated Hello Kitty walkie-talkie to my ear.

"Niner niner zero, this is Serpentino, come in Mary-Sue, report, over."

"Dude, you're like five feet away from me. Do we really need the walkie-talkies, over?"

"Just following procedure. I think that's her, over."

"Who? Over."

"Jenny Death, you royal pain in the ass! Uh, over."

"Oh yeah, over."

"Ready to move in for the K.O., over?"

"But Draco. Over."

"Use my damn codename! Over."

"But Serpentino. Over."

"What? Over."

"I don't think that's her. Didn't Dumbledore just say her name was Jennifer D'Morticia or something? I don't think Dumbledore would just lie to us like that. Sadface emoticon, over."

"That's her cover, you fool! You don't think a wanted fugitive like Jenny Death would just reveal herself to everyone willy-nilly, do you? Over."

"Ooh, right. Gotcha. Over."

"So...repeat. We ready to move in for the K.O.? Over."

"Affirmative. Roger that. I'll get my killing curse ready. Time to shine. Four-Twenty, good buddy. Over."

I raised my wand and Draco raised his wand-gun and we pointed them towards Jenny Death with murderous intent. But just as we were about to fire, we were interrupted when an owl flew through the hall, right in front of us, obstructing our aim. And it wasn't just an owl, but the King of the Owls! I knew this because he was wearing a little bird crown and there was a little golden sceptre clutched in his little bird talons. There was also a scroll tied to his regal claws. He perched himself on Aragorn's arm like some kind of trained falcon, only the King of the Owls was actually an owl and not a falcon.

"What news from Gondor?" Aragorn asked, surprised by the sudden arrival.

The owl cleared his throat, and gave Aragorn an apologetic little owl-bow. "I'm afraid the news is very dire, my King. Perhaps I can deliver it to you somewhere more...private."

Aragorn nodded gravely, and they left the hall, flanked by a couple of Aragorn's guards. I was very curious as to what this secret message could be about, so I followed them outside the castle to a garden-type area near the Forbidden Forest.

The night had a subtle stillness to it, giving the scene an almost picturesque quality. Aragorn had the scroll clutched in his magnificent hands. He gazed up at me, noticing my presence. I then saw that he had been crying.

One of his men was consoling him. It was Haldeir, idk if you remember him but he was in Chapter 1. "We will erect a grand monument to her in the Capital, Sire. So that for all time her beauty will be remembered."

And, okay, that _really_ pissed me off. I wasn't quite sure what was going on here, but it should have been _me _who was comforting Aragorn, not some random guard who's only had like two lines in the entire friffing story! Like I'm pretty sure Aragorn isn't gay or anything but he could be bishounen for all I know! And I'd hate for Aragorn to be bishounen because then I'd have to be jealous of every man on Middle Earth as well, instead of just the women! :(

There were a few moments of awkward silence. The King of the Owls perched up (lol geddit): "With all due respect, your highness... King Aragorn has suffered a great personal loss and would appreciate some privacy at this ti-"

But I wasn't about to be fooled by some dumb owl. After all, the birds of Middle Earth aren't known to be particularly "with it" as far as human affairs are concerned. So I walked up to Aragorn in a sexy swaggering way, unbuttoning my blousey dress thingy as I approached the melancholy Gondorian King.

"Now what's the matter, Snugglepumpkin?" I asked in a sultry yet compassionate and understanding voice.

Aragorn needed a few seconds just to recover his voice from the depths of his sullen heart. "My wife, Arwen, she... I just learned that she died of the Affliction."

I could barely contain my joy. Now nothing stood in the way to his hunky Striderly affection!

"Aww, man, that's a bummer!" I lied tactfully, still inching ever closer to his grieving face, streaked as it was with tears of shock and regret.

"We should've done more to retrieve the cure!" he wept. Sensitive guys are cute.

I raised my right index finger to his cracked, shivering lips. "It's okay, now." I told him, my voice a provocative near-whisper. "It's all in the past."

My face found its way to his, until our lips were just an inch apart, as if they were magnetically charged**(7)**. "And look on the bright side..." I continued.

_"At least you're single now..."_

The Owl King and Aragorn's guards watched on in horrified jealousy as my lips rose and touched his, softly at first but with increasing passion, until my tongue was inside his mouth! It felt sooooooo good, even better than the time I had the _sex _with Legolas!

And this was only kissing! OMG!

"WHAT THE H*ECK IS GOING ON HERE YOU LUSTEROUS FOOLS OF LITTLE RESTRAINT?" cried a shrill voice that was all too familiar to me.

Legolas stood before us, seething with rage.

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. With the notable and somewhat understandable exception of Jenny Tree who, as a tree literally rooted to the ground, lacks the mobility to travel long distances.

2\. I have literally no knowledge of boat terminology. Can you tell?

3\. FFS IT'S NOT CHEATING IF IT'S JUST ON THE CHEEK OKAY YES THANK

4\. This is getting so meta, lmao.

5\. Friends, I'm not going to profess to be a scholar of tennis, nor particularly attentive when it comes to long-winded treatises regarding the finer points of said sport. However, the crux of his speech (at least the parts of it I was actually paying attention to) seems to have been as follows: "Tennis is a graceful and elegant game and, from my humble Headmasterly perspective, seems to symbolise everything the Wizarding World should be, but, all too unfortunately, has forgotten about in recent years. The practitioners of this noble physical art (even the Muggle ones!) move with single-minded ferocity and determination to defeat an opponent with whom no actual physical contact will be made (a pleasant distinction from less refined games such as American football), that I'm actually reminded rather a lot of magic in its heyday..." et cetera, et friffing cetera.

6\. Kind of like a humanoid tree person, if for some reason you've never played Skyrim before.

7\. Friffing magnets, how do they work?


	15. Chapter 15

**1 SEPTEMBER**

**YEAR OF THE NIMBUS 3000 RACING BROOM**

So but then like Aragorn and Legolas were shooting intense stares at each other, barbed with promises of painful and merciless destruction. I was kinda scared they were gonna start like making out or something, but then I remembered the context of the situation and decided that this eventuality seemed unlikely to transpire in the immediate future.

I knew I had to act quickly before Aragorn drew steel and Legolas nocks his honed Elven longbow, so bravely and with great princessely resolve I stepped in between them and spoke up:

"Legolas my _faltherin_ this probably seems _really_ bad right now," I began with the practised evenness of someone who had gleefully replayed this scenario in her mind like a worn VHS tape a thousand times before it even actually happened.

_"Bad?"_ Legolas's voice is shocked with incredulity. "Melanie, I'm sick to extremely rare Elven _death_ of your cuckolding indiscretions! I didn't like it when you flirted with other men, in fact it made my skin crawl. But I let it go, because I ily and respect you. But now you're making out with _Aragorn_ and I just...can't even-"

"Babe I can explain," I explained soothingly. "It probably looks like cheating from your vantage point, and I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea. However, what was actually happening here was that I was actually merely invoking my divine royal right of the Totally Platonic Kiss of Comforting. I can assure you that there was no lustful intent in this time-honoured act of comradeship, which is often shared among just-friends during testing times such as these."

Legolas, still exasperated, turns toward the King of the Owls and Haldier, who were just like awkwardly standing slash perched off to the side. "Is...is this true? About the platonic kissing thing?"

The King of the Owls was about to open his big ugly beak but I shot him a reproachful stare just in time so he and Haldier just kinda nodded and I breathed a huge sigh of relief but it was just like an internal sigh because actually like sigh sighing would've been way too unsubtle and I love subtlety like I google minimalistic interior design and listen to ambient electronic music on Spotify all the time I guess what I'm saying is I am an ethereal being of nuance and restraint lol.

"Anyway," I finished in an august manner of skilled diplomacy, "Aragorn's wife died of that disease we were trying to cure way back from Chapter One to like Three before I guess we got totally sidetracked but finding the cure is now back on my royal agenda right after taking a bubble bath and watching the new Orange Is the New Black and starting out the school year and _then_ we will find that wretched Dobby creature I promise."

Legolas and Aragorn both seemed to relax their postures slightly, and I could feel the tension practically like evaporating through the pores of their skin which was probably like really good for their complexion.

Then Legolas walks up to me and says in a flat no-BS tone, "We need to have a loooooong talk about this later." Then he turns to Aragorn and pats him on the shoulder perhaps a little too forcefully and says "I'm sorry for your loss, bro." He then turned his Ash Ketchum hat around.

And then he swaggers back up toward the castle and we all kinda followed in suit, keeping a respectful distance from the still-mourning Aragorn and the quite clearly still pissed-off Legolas.

As we were walking the King of the Owls like totally perched himself on my right shoulder and began whispering in my corresponding ear: "It's unfair to string both Aragorn and Legolas along like this. You'll have to choo-hoooot-hoooose between them."

"Then I guess I'll choose Aragorn," I whispered back after like oh-point-five seconds of careful consideration.

"If you choose Aragorn, you must wait. He is grieving over his beloved wife. It would be sweet of you to comfort him as a friend, but he is nowhere near ready to begin a new relationship."

The bird-brained fool was beginning to get on my nerves.

"OK," I said sharply, my voice rising along with my blood pressure, "So I'll date Legolas until Aragorn's over his ugly wife, then I'll move onto him! What the h*eck is the friffing problem?"

The King of the Owls sighed deeply. "Melanie, I have known you a long time, and I've always had the sneaking suspicion that you're not as vapid as you pretend to be. Please prove me right."

"What do you mean you've known me for a long time? I met you like five minutes ago or whatever! Even though five minutes usually feels like about two weeks for me, lol. Were you at the party?"

The owl's voice all of a sudden became very cryptic and actually quite spoopy.

"Melanie, the truth is that I have been watching you for a long time. Monitoring your progress. I knew your identity long before anyone else did. Back when you were growing up in the kingdom of Philadelphia... You remember that cashier at the Burger King your false parents used to take you to? The short trainee with the suspicious yellow eyes and the inexplicable brown feathers and the downright bizarre beak?"

"OMG, that was YOU?"

"Yes, Melanie, 'twas I. The outside world was not yet ready for you. In fact, it still isn't, and probably never will be... But I kept watch over you, clandestine yet ever-vigilant. I made sure you were safe until you were old enough to fulfill the Prophecy."

"Well, thanks," I said gracefully, even though I in actual fact did not give a single friff about whatever this stupid boring owl was talking about. Aragorn's supple muscular backside just ahead of me was waaaaay more enticing... It made my eyelashes tingle.

"D-don't you want to know about the Prophecy?"

"Oh, uh, later I guess. I need a bubble bath. It's been a very stressful evening for me and I hope you can appreciate how difficult it is for me being an attractive princess who is caught between two extremely hunky men. I don't care what Tumblr says, cute privilege is not real because ugly people will never have to make a decision between two major friffing hotties because they'd just be grateful when one like 5/10 guy even pays them a whiff of attention and tbh later I'm going to go online and bully ugly peeps for oppressing me so much."

"Very well," said the King of the Owls, stretching his wings and furrowing his-owl brow. "You may not be ready to hear about the Prophecy just yet. But your time will come soooo-hoot-hooooon. Please make your decisions wisely, and take great care in your actions. They may have...unexpected future ramifications."

"Yeah, yeah," I snapped, utterly bored just like you probably are right now. Then I had a sudden moment of like transcendental clarity or whatever. "Hey, Mr Owl King, are you like a physical manifestation of my conscience or something?"

The King of the Owls stared at me gravely. "Well, technically speaking, you are correct, but only within the perceived reality of this literary world. If you wish to examine the meta-"

"kthxbai" I said with royal authority.

At that he flew off to the part of Hogwarts where all the owls are kept (which I guess is known as the Owlery), probably in a desperate attempt to preserve public support in the increasingly irrelevant Owlish monarchy, which by this point is pretty much on its way to becoming an only symbolically meaningful constitutional monarchy**(1)**. But I could hear a few cryptic words echo chillingly through the twisting trees and erect blades of lush grass like a thousand shining scythes jutting from the earthy maw beneath our blistered feet: _"We all areeeee. Hoooooohoooooot..."_

When we arrived back at the Great Hall a little before midnight (which reminds me of what a qt Ethan Hawke is even though he's old now he's still a babe) Dumbledore was in the process of disciplining Draco in front of the entire school.

"Ten points from Slytherin for attempting to assassinate a member of staff!" he said, his words reverberating ominously across the stone walls of the castle.

Then the headmaster redirected his gaze toward the Gryffindor table. "Potter, why are you wearing that Che Guevara shirt instead of the mandatory school robes?"

"Because I read The Communist Manifesto and watched The Motorcycle Diaries over the summer break!" said Harry in a working-class voice. "And now Comrade Che is my hero and I am ideologically opposed to wearing the bourgeois wizard robes of oppression!"

Spake Dumbledore: "Potter, as a libertarian I may disagree with your newfound socialist views, but I do find myself admiring your interest in political philosophy and your willingness to stay true to your beliefs. Five thousand points to Gryffindor!" Then, noticing that I had returned, he addressed the entire student body: "And now, without any further ado, I do believe it's time to sort the new students into the school houses!"

All the pesky snot-nosed first-years began to like totally line up in front of the Sorting Hat at the head table, but I pushed them all aside until I was at the front of the line. Then I was all like "My turn, bitches!" and placed the Sorting Hat on my divine head.

The Sorting Hat, probably in awe of my multitude of impressive talents, as well as my considerable emotional and intellectual depth, pondered for a full minute before finally speaking up: "Hmm...tricky. _Veeeery_ tricky. You're not so brave, that's for sure. Not cunning either. Not smart enough for Ravenclaw... I was considering Hufflepuff for a second there, but you're not even _nice_, for friff's sake!"

I was running out of patience. "Fine then! I'll make my own house! With blackjack and hookers!"

Then things got like super weird. The world kinda warped around me into like some kind of like psychedelic nether-realm. It was like a cross between Enter the Void and that trippy part at the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey. The Sorting Hat appeared before me in what I assumed was its natural form, complete with stick-thin legs and twiggy gloved arms, kinda like those talking M&amp;Ms mascot things. A deep, booming psychic voice shattered the fragile synapses of my friffing mind: "ARE YOU SERIOUS ABOUT FORMING A NEW HOGWARTS HOUSE? THE FIRST NEW ONE IN OVER A THOUSAND YEARS?"

"Yes," I replied with steely resolve. "And I'll call it 'Melanie Is Awesome' and we'll kick the other houses' collective _butts_ at tennis! Just you watch."

"VERY WELL," replied the Hat. "BUT FIRST, YOU WILL NEED TO GO ON A SYMBOLIC VISION QUEST DEEP INTO THE DEPTHS OF OUR COMBINED TELEPATHICALLY-LINKED SUBCONSCIOUSNESSES. ARE YOU READY FOR THE GRAND AND NOBLE HOUSE-FORGING TASK THAT AWAITS YOU?"

"Totes," I said in a dainty way.

And then, in a soul-shattering flash of like blinding ethereal light, the surreal new reality in which I had found myself unfurled, and I all of a sudden I was lying naked in a vast field at night, utterly alone, face turned upward toward a magnificent starlit sky. The world was heavy with some kind of unabashedly potent power coursing through the spaces in oxygen molecules. I reached out to wrap my hand around one, which actually worked because surprisingly I had shrunk down to the size of an actual atom tbh.

The oxygen molecule felt utterly effervescent in my hands, exploding with power like a can of 7-Up left in the trunk of a 1994 Honda Accord driven across the country several times as its driver shifts from city to city in search of… What? See, therein lies the complication. _He does not know._

Rising to my feet, I find that blades of grass tower above me like physical manifestations of the royalty I so humbly keep locked in my veins. A tentative hand—mine, I suppose—reaches forward to caress the green surface of one blade, and the friffing thing _pricks _me.

"Ow!" I chortle, leaping backward. Since I am the size of an atom, which is even smaller than a bug, it's a significant distance before I can reach the next closest blade of grass. Sighing, I wonder if my breath is shortened because I literally cannot inhale one entire oxygen molecule on account of my nasal passage shrinking so much. See, a molecule fit in my _hand_. And that's when I realized…

It is physically impossible for me to be this small and expect to survive.

I have to be honest. I need one moment of honesty while they're not watching, and I need to tell you this quickly, dear Reader, so at least someone will know. A lot of things have happened since Chapter One that have forced me to question what I know about myself, and my immediate surroundings. That is, my reality. Do you recall, perhaps, a scene from an earlier chapter on the Hogwarts Express?

I don't know if that really happened, but something has changed. Rather, the things around me keep changing and flickering back and forth between one vague possibility and another, and I can't discern the difference between either one or maybe there's a third option and God, I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm perplexed. I've been betrayed by what I knew to be real and my world repeatedly crumbles around me like a shell I need for safety but can never, ever rely on. And now I'm standing here, holding a molecule, and I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. Zevrar (the current Owlish monarch as of Y.N.3K.R.B.) is the seventeenth king born of the ancient Xoothoot Dynasty, which even before its royal ascension had been a powerful and influential house. Up until the last like hundred years or so the Xoothoot control over the worldwide Owl populace had been damn near absolute. However Zevrar's grandfather, King Varlso XIII, had made some (at the time extremely controversial) concessions to defer some of his royal power to the Council of Owlders, and was even a signatory of a new Owlish charter, which imposed not-inconsiderable restrictions to his his own political rights. Owlish royalists are quick to paint Varlso XIII as an incredibly weak monarch who paved the way for the sharply-divided slow-to act Owlish bureaucratic system way too mired in semantics to actually make that much like tangible progress. The more liberal-minded Owlish political thinkers, however, generally view this whole deferral business as an important step in the direction of long-overdue democracy. So now the politically moderate Zevrar is forced to have to walk cautiously upon the ever-thinning like string-like tightrope of like supporting democracy and the modern system of checks and balances, while avoiding any mention of possible abolition of the crown.


	16. Chapter 16

Do you ever have those dreams where you urgently need to get somewhere, but the gods of like the Dream Realm keep throwing obstacles and diversions and detours at you so you never actually end up reaching your destination before waking?

Well, the Year of the Nimbus 3000 Racing Broom has so far just pretty much been an extended version of one of those dreams, and yet I am unable to wake from it.

Is this what h*eck feels like?

I'm still choking on my insignificance and the oppressive weight of each individual molecule of oxygen that parades by me, tantalisingly. My vision is getting blurred. My pallid face jerks itself skyward spasmically_(sic)_, as if pleading the heavens for some brief moment of reprieve. I can see all the past and future orbits of each individual star in the sky. They all look like brilliant streaks of sheer emotion, a 90s-VHS-standby-display-screen spectrum of fiber-optic primary and secondary colour; and weave through each other to create an almost blinding universal tapestry of all that ever was and ever will be. I wish I had my iPhone so I could Snapchat this shizz.

I realise that there are more stars out there - above, below and beyond me - than there are seconds remaining to my numerically unknowable but undeniably temporary mortal lifespan. This makes me feel tiny and ephemeral. Should I ever survive this infinite autobahn of existential woe, I will be sure to hold my dear friends close to mine heart, and remind them often of their unconditional significance to me, something I am disgustingly prone to understate.

I hope Legolas doesn't hate me. Though I could hardly blame him if he did.

My breathing slowly regulates itself and my eyesight returns, yet I find the world around me and the void above me retain a jagged, pastellesque_(sic)_ quality, as if my surroundings had been painted brushstroke by brushstroke by a patient and brilliant yet slowly blinding celestial artist.

I am in the Painted Realm, I realise suddenly.

In the distance lies a small village, all quaint little wattle-and-daub abodes scattered across a small area like the outcome a dice roll in the Game of the Divines (the only game there is), and shrouded by the rough cross-etched shadows of the painted night.

It is the nation of Estonia, the year is 1945, and the guns have fallen silent across the continent. An eerie disquiet pervades. The survivors dance their clumsy unchoreographed waltz around the circumference of this vast and empty coliseum. The millions dead are silent spectators, their mouths caked with the dirt they tasted as their tangibility deteriorated into a sprawling heap and they dissolved all of them into tiny aberrations upon the landscape. I head toward the village, directionless.

The village has one occupant, a guardsman, early 30s, pale from some undiagnosed illness, spine twisted discordantly like an old-growth oak tree suddenly forced to subsist with greyscale pavement and nearly-identical suburban houses designed to decay in forty years. The end is built into the beginning, my friends, always. Hang up just a friffing second, the guardsman is actually a woman. I have a sneaking doubt that the very concept of a female guard was probably anything other than a riotous supposition for most Europeans in these bloody years creeping toward the halfway-slash-tipping point of the previous century, but I have to remind myself that none of this is even real, anyway, and besides, this whole scene and the very existence of this female guard could carry some kind of deep artistic symbolism of which I am not yet equipped with sufficient data about my current circumstances to just at this moment in time ascertain. Probably something to do with feminism, which by the way I guess I'm pretty much all for, and I sincerely hope that my earlier vapidness hasn't just like totally set the entire movement back by several decades.

Anyway, as if telepathically sensing my arrival, the Guardswoman emerges from her little hovel, clutching a rifle, the icy resolve plastered on her face as she creeps steadily toward me betrayed by the perspiration streaking across it, mapping her war-worn profile.

"Yo yo yizzo." I say by means of royal greeting.

"Who are you?" she asks in a voice that seems European but not necessarily Estonian. FFS whoever the h*eck invented this bizarre reality really should have at least done some cursory research about Estonia before attempting to paint its villages and citizens.

"Yo'uer," I correct her grammarfully_(sic)_.

"What?"

"I" I proclaim, wolf-shaped pyrotechnics inexplicably going off around my person as I don my cute non-prescription highly patriotic Rohan-flag glasses and place the frames over my gemstone eyes to prevent the onset of RSI or something, "am Princess Melanie, of Rohan. Pleased to meet you, Ms Guard Lady."

"Perhaps you can help me," we both splutter at exactly the same time. We giggle at this in sweet synchronity, though the guard's sweating hands are still practically glued to her firearm.

Under less pressing circumstances I would have yelled "OMG jinx hahaha", but instead I soberly suggest that perhaps we could help each other, for you see I really need to be finding my way home, or at least somewhere that can actually sustain my existence for any length of time.

"I will help you return home," offers the Guardswoman in her clumsy attempt at a broad Estonian accent, "if you can retrieve for me the one thing left upon this giant sphere of mud and saltwater that truly matters to me."

"And what's that?" I ask daintily.

"The Bull in the Heather," she says, and though I have no friffing idea what that means, I nod assuredly.

"And where can I find this Bull in the Heather?"

She turns her face upward to the infinite psychedelic maw above us, pointing her steel weapon, an almost graceful extension of her fleshy limb, to indicate the spherical silver satellite levitating above us, the only natural satellite this friffing planet even has, her body swanlike in spite of her aforementioned spinal problems, her fatal prop suddenly an instrument of knowledge and instruction as if it could only fire rose petals, her whole frame and mine bathing in the silvery, ethereal celluloid light of my latest adversary...


	17. Chapter 17

**{AN: SOmeone should do a dramatic reading of this story lol}**

* * *

The Moon had a face, like that creepy Whatsapp emoticon. You know the one that's practically smugly crooning _"I know what you got up to last niiiiiight..."_ at you? Yah, that one. Spoopy. And it turns out he sounds exactly like Gilbert Gottfried.

Spake the Moon: "I overhoid yer entoire conversation! You wish to reclaaayme the Bull in tha Heather from MOI?"

"I doooooooo," I responded with the firey resolve of my kin, the Rohannian Royalty.

"Ha! I would not just merely give up moi most proised possession to a little WHELP loike you!"

"Hey, I'm a princess or whatever! And the guard lady wants her friffing bull back, so give it back you snit! (Lol what's a snit")

Then I saw one of the Moon's cloud henchmen float up beside the Moon and the cloud had a tether thing and tied to that was a bull made of gold and china or something and he looked sad though! Poor Mr Bull. :(

"You ROOOOILLY WAnT IT?" bellowed the moon in a booming celestial voice but see his face doesn't stop doing that creepy smiley thing because tbh he's an emoticon.

"As a matter of fact, sir, I dooooooooooo!" said I, like in that "do she got the booty" meme.

"Then we must RAP for it."

"What?"

"Melanie T'Starloight von Goldensdawn, I challenge you to a RAP BATTLE!"

One of the Moon's cloud friends produced a turntable and headphones, as if from thin air, which I guess it actually was since the air is quite thin in the celestial realm (which might actually explain or contribute to my apparent hallucinations, who knows?) and started laying down some sick beats. I saw that the moon was now wearing stylish shades and a cool bling bling (DAE 2005 kid?) chain and he had a microphone made out of PURE PLUTONIUM.

And then the Moon began to rap, with a gorgeous flow that would put even Lil B and Kanye to shame:

_"My name is the Moon_

_I really am a boon_

_When you think it's still daytime_

_I always come around too soon..."_

I felt my stomach lurch as I witnessed the true unadulterated lyrical prowass of the Moon. His rap game is stronger than mine would ever be! I also lacked a turntable, sadly. I turned to the Estonian Guard, who was still standing there B T dubs, and whispered frantically in her ear.

"Can you by any chance...beatbox?" I asked her, knowing that this was my only chance.

She laughed a shrill, piercing laugh.

"Child, I have been beatboxing all of my life."

I nodded, hope slowly returning to my cutesy cheeks.

Now it was time for the magic to begin. The Guard produced an intense, thundering vocal rhythm that sounded a bit like that Bjork album without any actual instruments, all just voices. Then, impressively, she began to yodel on top of her vocal drumbeat. I was in that moment in the motherfriffing ZONE, and ready to pulverise the sky with my royal rhymes.

_"My name's Princess Melanie_

_You are not a friend of me_

_In fact you're my enemy_

_And imma annihilate thee_

_With all my potent rhymes_

_I always keep in time_

_'Cause I'm a lyrical beast_

_Now prepare for MC Mel's hip-hop feast!_

_DISS TRAAAAAACK!_

_Yo Moon you think you're so super, then?_

_If you're such a "Super Moon" why ain't you in tha X-Men?_

_That's right sucka, always hiding behind clouds_

_Uh...something something not like the sun_

_You just ain't no fun for anyone!_

_Now give me back the motherfriffing bull_

_Before I rap your butt all the way back to high school!"_

The Moon appeared visibly shaken, all thanks to my masterful flow. His misogynistic butt had probably assumed that I couldn't rap just because I'm female! But then I saw that he was conferring with his DJ Cloud friend, and I knew I couldn't let my guard down just yet!

Round Two was now in motion.

I heard a sample from "All Star" by Smashmouth blaring from some PA system somewhere, and like OMG! That had been _our _song, the one we'd listen to before enjoying a nice evening meal of human eyeballs! No not Legolas! Shrek! Tears welled up in my moonshine eyes, but not from sadness or anything! Just from onions or something. (lol geddit)

Rapped the Moon, in perfect sync with Steve Harwell's powerful sampled vocals:

_"SomeBODY once told me you had a guy named Shrek_

_He was so green and cute as heck_

_You were looking kinda dumb_

_Just bathing in the swamp_

_While Shrek was with his other girlfriend_

_Hey now, he's a playa, got his game on, go away_

_Hey now, Shrek's a cheater, canoodling in Far Far Away..."_

In order to combat this I was going to need… BACKUP. Here's the thing see I' m Mel T'Starlight von Goldesndawn so I have a few tricks up mah royal princessly mithril sleeve. I turned over to my Estonian guardswoman beatboxing champ and pointed at her dramatically like in that meme with an anime lawyer or whatever and I was like,

"Let's throw down the low-down; let's do som – A!" I shouted. Then she opened her mouth and without moving her face muscles at all this Bollywood-esque tune like the one in the background of Selena Gomez's song _When Your Ready Come and Get It (Na na na na) _echoed throughout the celestial star moon divine realm of painting and stuff.

So then after that I basically whirled around in a circle until I was wearing a bright yellow sari that wrapped around me like a princess sheath of noblewoman power. Then I had to dance like a seasoned Bollywood star only I'm a really bad dancer sometimes so we had to use some confusing camera angles to conceal the fact that my hips are so not good at gyrating like Shahrukh Khan's. Thank Valhalla the camera angles worked, the moon was totes blown away by our mad beat. And that was BEFORE I started singing in Hindi:

_They're gonna clean up your looks_

_With all the lies in the books_

_And make a citizen out of ye_

_Because they slepp with a gun_

_&amp; keep an eye on you sun_

_So they can watch all the things that ya do~_

I lean in really close to the mic and say "that was Teenagers by legendary rock band Acca Dacca." I feel totally hipster. Then I keep bhangra-ing and rapping in Hindi.

_When I was_

_A young Mel_

_My fake father took me into the city_

_To see a marching Mellllllll_

_He said princess-daughter,_

_When you grow up_

_Will you be _

_A princess of Roha-aan_

_And also everyone else?_

_Will you_

_Defeat them_

_In a rap battle_

_Set to a Selena Gomez song_

_With lyrics by a dead band from the early 2000s _

_sung in a foreign language?_

_The story will never explain why you know Hindi_

_When you're ready come and get it_

_(Na na na na)_

_(Na na na na)_

_(Na na na na)_

I struck a pose + stuck my hip out a little and the moon basically crumbled into the sadface emoticon from Whatsapp. Don't you think Whatsapp smileys are way better than Kik smileys? Seriously, Kik needs to get on it with smileys and chat bubble colors because I'm getting so sick of the same five colors. Anyway, the moon got real sad-like and I was like, channeling Anthony Burgess when I grinned from ear to ear and stuck my hip out even more.

"So gimme dat boom-boom-POW Bull thing Mr. Moon Face Creppy Smiley!" I chant while executing perfect boy-band moves in synchronization with the Estonian guardswoman.

Then a strange thing happened: The Moon Man like totally imploded upon himself and turned into one of those purple portal things from Spyro the Dragon! Radical! Oh yeah and the bull floated slowly back down to earth. The Guardswoman looked overjoyed to be reunited with her friend, and they embraced warmly. There was like a floodlight and sparkling SFX around them, something that would probably look like really great in one of those "Magic Moments of Disney" montages on VHS. When hipsters and the kool kats of /mu/ get bored with vinyl they will start listening to all their music on VHS tapes with accompanying static images of abstract art. It is the FUTURE my friends. Oh yeah and I hope Disney makes this story into a film I just hope J.R.R. Jackson lets them use all the LOTR characters! :^( So then anyway I joined in on the hugjerk and I just hoped the recent destruction of the moon hadn't disturbed the ocean tides or whatever cos that would SUCK for astrologers everywhere!

With this in mind I said "I must travel through the portal now, to face my destiny."

And the Estonian Guard was all like "OK Melanie, it was great meeting and rapping with you. Maybe we can record a collaborative mixtape sometime."

And then I was all like "Fo shizzle. Will we...will we ever meet again? I mean, like, are you actually real?"

And then she looked me in the eyes with insight and like a kind of like world-weary elegance and replied, "Melanie, my darling child, I am every bit as real as you are."

So then I felt myself getting really light and I felt my center of gravity floating up towards the gravitational pull of the moon-portal (I friffing love science). And the Bull, who has a voice like Tom Hanks, was all like "Byyyyyeeee Melanieeee!"

And then I was back inside the portal, and I could feel myself travelling back to my own realm of like Middle Earth that also has Scotland in it somehow.

And then the Sorting Hat appeared before me once more and was like "Bravo, Melanie! Jolly good show! Melanie is Awesome is now an official Hogwarts house!"

And then I looked around me and saw that I was back at Hogwarts and everyone was cheering for me and Coach Dumbledore was clapping two tennis racquets together and even Legola and Aragorn were hugging! And confetti was going off and some fell into my hair which is totally a subtle foreshadowing of a later event so I feel I should point that right now!

So I got up onto the main stage of the Great Hall and declared in a booming voice: "Y'all are welcome to join my new witch house!"

And then Grimes the Pixie Queen descended from the VHS display ceiling and sang some rad ethereal tunes for us.

And then Dumbledore was like "You can use the Hufflepuff common room! The Hufflepuffs will have to find somewhere else to go! Haha!"

And then I felt really bad for the Hufflepuffs and I hope they don't hate me and I hope I can still be friends with Cedric Diggory because I really do think he's a kool kat even though Twilight is overrated he's a pretty good actor with the right material.

* * *

**NEXT: THE (WHATABURGER) TRIWIZARD (TENNIS) TOURNEY(AMENT)! STAY TUNED!**


	18. Chapter 18

**1 SEPTEMBER (STILL!)**

**YEAR OF THE NIMBUS 3000 RACING BROOM**

And then verily did yrstruly witness two entire gaggles of foreign students filter through into the Great Hall from separate secret crevices which did provide private pathways into said Hall. From where, who can even do a three-feathered friff of a tell.

Grand Coach Dumbledore had clearly been anticipating their arrival.

"Ah!" said he, the headmaster, His Tennisness Hisself. "I do appear to observe with mine own failing eyes the arrival of student representatives from not ein but zwei distinguished academies of the Great Arts: Durmstrang Institute and Enfield Tennis Academy! Come well and in peace, fine denizens of great othershorely halls of wiztennisly artistry!"

"We will," the headteachers of these zwei institutes bowed and murmured with lapsang souchong graciousness.

And sat were the welcomely-infiltrating students, upon apparating chairs of much mahogany and the sweat of unseen house-elf labour, before Coachnessness could even offer webbed hands in invitation that be permitted they may to perform such action.

"Without further ado, askew, mew-mew, do-do-dah-dah feels good to dance at any age, to prevent the serpentine onset of rage from the dank den of my rat cage -(*) Now we may draw names the names from the GOBLET OF FIRE, the names of THE CHAMPIONS THEMSELVESES.

And the names he drew, after an ominous utterance of "ONLY SEVENTH YEARS WERE INCLUDED INTO THE DRAW -

"From the Strang of Durm, elected to compete: Roger Federererer!"

The legend himself of tennis and magely arts and crafts, needed no introduction do he? He don't. Not from me, not from yrstruleee, not from Melanieee.

"From the Field of En, the Jape that Ceaseth not... Ann Kittenplan!"

A short grrrl with robo neko ears and robo neko tail did rise from her modest mousketeer chair, to a cyan saltwater sea of cheer.

"And in all the finality attributable to and invested to the ephemeral torchbug of man, do I solemnly and whyth whyspysh lymbs draw the last name from the bowels of this here flaming cup...

*DRUM ROLL –performed by the ghost of Art Blakey, maester drumsman of much jazzical bebop fare of fan –*

"From the Warts of Hogs..."

Then spontaneously from the abyss of perspirative anticip' ation did erupt Severe Snape Hisself, maester of the potionick arts, wannaBF of Lil' Lilleth Potter, femm rap extraordinaire, into a sea of FRIFFING DIAMONDs, buried to be as decreed by the will of his Will in a longboat, torched by a heady brew of his own liquid concoctions. Rest In Peace dude(tte).

...

...

..

.

"Melanie T'Starlight of the Goldensdawn Clan Familium!"

A collective gasp for yrstruly, student spidereyes stutter wordlessly 'pon muh highnessal nape.

But I was not, to be one of pure and solemn truths, a student of suitable eligibility! How could this turn of events possibly have done a lurching summersault of transpiration into the MAGMA OF THE PRESENT?

"MELANIE DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE!?" Dumbledore screamed calmly.

"Nah," respondex I, me, yrstruly, Melanie.

"k then seems fine 2 me lol u may compete lol" respondeth Dumblydore in the sacred Assyrian part'n'parceltongue of chatspeek.

"lol nice" respondex yrstruly in omelette-sweet kind.

Did then the bony form of a former foeman emerge to summon into utterance wordlings of earthy titanium piercing jutting thru mine own wistful organick blood-pump-organium?

Aye, 'td'd.

"Challenge the first do takin' on th' morrow," spax Dobby the grib-grab-potion-gob, Dobb Dobb the house elf, appeareth abject nothingness from, hasty suddenness in "and potion from chapter the zwei do still possex I. So in therefore I doth advise sound sleepiness for all in partic. Thanks and fangs, loyal and royal peeps of studentkin."


	19. Chapter 19

"Dobby"

I had him coronered in the corridoors at even ing after the feast. "Y'all better give bak the potion y'all st'all form me." I sad venomly. "No." said Dobby. "Oh." I replied.

But then I remember that I have a sword witch is huge liek a sord form a JRPG and I haven't even usa it science chapter 1! so I Drew my sword from it's scabbers and it was pulsing dimly w/ teh sprite energy of all the foes I hav slain so far**(1);,.** and pointed it at Dobbie's thoat. "How about now u golbinoid PUNK.?" I said tersely. Dobby looked scared and liek he was about to prey for mercy but dobby is actully agnostic**(2)** I thionk I read that in a HP fanzine onetime. But then out of the shadows cume a figure and at the candle lightj cast its candlelight u[pon him I saw how that it was actuall the most horrific monster I have ever lye eye upon! Twas a man made of blood and flesh and veins and skin! Gross! And he had these two small white globes indented bellow his fourhead and they were dotter with lil irises or something! The man was so horrific and I bet he e ven had internal organs! I felt like I was about too throw up! So I felt my hands shakeing and the man made of blood and flesh and veins and skin walked up to us and I saw that he had an entire friffing ARM protruding form the side of the tor-so like some kind of freak and their was another arm on the otherside and teh arm had five tendril=like units witch looked like fish finges only they where covered with SKIn and not batteried or fried or w/e. and so then the man man made of blood and flesh and veins and skin was all like "I AM THE MAN MADE OF BLOOD AND FLESH AND VEINS AND SKIN' and ten he wass all liek "Yo D-Man the top shelf grey house elf is this grrrl causing you any trouble" and Dobby like dusted himself off cos I think that's what ur supposed to do in situations like this? And he was all like "hey there dobbyguard**(3) **no actually I think Dobby and Princess Melanie are about to retch and _understanding…_"

wat understanding?

"Wat understanding?" I aksed, bewilded.

"About the potion" sapkex Dobe. "Mayhap Dobby well give u teh potion bak after all…"

"OMG thanks Dobby ily!" I gushed.

"ON ONE CONDITION!" dobby continueth. "Dobby will only consider returning the potion 2 U if you…..

Lose the Triwizard tennis tournament!" finished Dobbie.

We'll we'll we'll. We now did face quite the quandary wheren't we. I was hopeing to winn the tournament bc you see I am addicted to the praises of others like it gives me this powerful sense of validation? I no its a pretty big char actor flaw and it's pretty vapid of me but I need that rush of acceptance form my peers other wise I feel liek I don't even exist? So like winning things and being recognized gives me a distraction from the deep abject void in my dainty Seoul .

Buuuut on the other hand… if gobby gives back the potion than lives will be saved because the affliction is still a thing and it didn't just sort of gradually peter out into irrelevence on its own liek most of my problems seem too. And as the one who had the instrumental roll off delivering the cure I would doubtless bee showered w/ glory and praises. But I think it's like something more then that. Maybe saving all these lives would actually make me like…weirdly happy? Maybe I'm not the shallow horribly person I keep telling myself I am when I need to justify my selfish actions cos thb its easier to just use stock statements like "I'm a bad person that's just who I am" then to actually admit you have a problem and like actually aim for some kind of self-improvement.

So now I was faced with a morel dilemma and I wish this were one of those R.L. Stine chose your own adventure Goosebumps novella**(4)** (omg I miss the 90s sooooo much) so I could just read both outcomes in advance and just go with whatever seems like the good ending!

"I… I will get back to you on that." Was the only response I could manage to come up with. _Weak, Melanie, weak._

"Well better make it quick," Dobby says prophetically. "The tournament starts tomorrow and let's just say that Dobby's…_betting a lot _on Federerer's victory. Tehe."

And so then Dobby and the horrifying man made of blood and flesh and veins and skin walked away and some really funky music started playing only it was weirdly discordant and kind of echoey and I was like wow is this vapor wave or is my blood sugar just really low lmoa and then I saw the two of them hi fiving each other in slow motion and walked away.

I went back to my new dorm and even though I'd literally never set foot in there before I noticed that all of my stuff was literally unpacked and my four-poster bed was propped up and the posters were of MCR (R.I.P. in peace), Green Day, EXO and Sum 181. I knew I had to catch some z's in the butterfly net of peaceful slumber because the wizard tennis championship was tomorrow and I had literally never played tennis in my life so that's problematic but I had a lot of things to think about so I ended up pacing around the room for a while and then who should knock on the door but wait just let me check oh yeah it's Aragorn!

And Aragorn was all like "hi Melanie, can I come in?" and I was like "sure thing bae…uh, friend…bae friend…boyfriend? No wait, just friend." so Aragon was like "k"**(5)** and I was like "lol how can I help you" and Aragorn was like "well I guess I'm still a bit in shock about my loss and it hasn't sunk in yet" and I was like "haha silly the tournament hasn't even started yet we haven't lost" and Aragorn was like "no I mean my wife…she died of the affliction remember?" and then I remembered and I was like "gee Agraron I'm sorry I've been sooo insensitive lately I'm here for you during this difficult time" and he was like "maybe we can just hang out for a bit I really need the company" and I was like "k" and he was like "I hear there's a gondola ride thing that has a nice view of the Hogwarts campus and I was like "cool let's do that!" so we went outside and booked two tickets for that and the lady at the ticket booth had nice hair I wonder what shampoo she uses and so we boarded the gondola and it took us far above the school and this whole scene was an interesting parallel to the carnival scene from chapter five if u can even remember that far back except this time I was like totally with Aragorn instead of Legolas.

And it was actually quite amazing, the view. The school grounds were illuminated with paper lanterns, suspended midair, to celebrate the commencement of the school year. If you squint they almost look like little fireflies, petrified all of them in the amber of the moment as if we lived inside a photographical image of infinite dimension. Mayhap we did, I surmised, recalling my recent musings on the static nature of time as we perceive it, and the nomadic, dynamic nature of all living beings**(6)**.

"it's beautiful, isn't it?" I said, my voice seeping gently through the calm and peaceful silence that existed in the ocean of possibility betwixt us. We were now above the village of Hogsmeade, which is a really cool, slightly rustic place with thatched hovels and a quaint little pub even though butterbeer is pretty overrated like just drink some Asahi or something lol.

"It is," Agreed Aragorn. I could tell that he was still wading the sea of melancholia, but at least now he was beginning to paddle through it, assuredly, pushing through grey waves with those mussely regal arms of his.

"First off, it bothered me how you looked exactly alike" I said.

Aragorn: "What?"

Mel: "You and Shrek, my ex."

Aragorn: "Um."

Mel: "It's probably in the ears or something. Y'all have similar ears. But anyway I guess I saw something of him in you."

Aragorn: "Um…okay."

Mel: "But you're different, Aragorn."

Aragorn: "…"

Mel: "I want to meet you."

Aragorn: "But I'm right here with you."

Mel: "Oh, I mean…I want to add you on MeetMe. Cool new app. Make new friends in your area!"

Aragorn: "But we're already friends."

Mel: "But I want to be best friends. BFFLs."

Aragorn: "BFFLs?"

Mel: "BFFLs."

Fireworks went off around our little gondola, suspended as it was, cradled by the heavens. I felt lightheaded. A prick of déjà vu entered me intravenously, sweeping through my insides.

I knew then that it was time to confront my past.

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. My fake bandit parents got me this as a gift for my seventh birthday. Its first victim was some dumb kid at my party whose only present for me was a packet of party balloons. Like wtf kid. Did you _not _just walk in the door and see like an infinite surplus of balloons floating around the place? At least get me some Lego or something ffs.

2\. Dobby's theological turmoil will be explored in greater depth in my upcoming prequel fic "Blood Sister X: House-Elf Absolution". He's not one of those comfortable fence-sitting agnostic-types; this is actually something he's been grappling with for years.

3\. Mr. MMOB&amp;F&amp;V&amp;S is actually on Jenny Death's payroll, but he's mainly assigned to protecting Dobby (which I think gives you some pretty glaring idea of Dobby's allegiances, if you hadn't already caught on). He was actually there with D-Grey Elf in my Dad's castle waaay back in Chapter 2, but he had an invisibility cloak on. That whole operation had been planned out pretty meticulously; I think all the involved parties were pretty shocked by how easy the potion heist ended up being for them.

4\. Reader Beware, YOU Choose the Scare! (TM)

5\. Not Aragorn's actual choice of words. I'm paraphrasing here.

6\. See Chapter 9.


	20. Chapter 20: Melanie Kart

~w~

uwu

uwo

owo

0w0

OMG I SLEPT IN I'M GONNA BE LAAAAATE! The Triwizard Tournament was to start at 10:00 in the AM, and it was already 9:55 in the AM and watashi wa-sn't even out of bed yet! Shouldn't have stayed out late with Aragorn but like he _did_ need my company so maybe it was good that I did! I hope I get Light Side points for this smh.

I only had time to shove a slice of toast whole meal toast in my mouth and put on some sneakers and grab my mithril tennis racquet and hobble toward the castle grounds, still in my cute Moogle nightingown. Then I remembered the /DECISION/ I had made in chapter 19.5, which is only available on the deep web, and decided that it was probably a good idea for me to be a little late!

But I still have to keep up appearances, kupo!

So like anyway, guided by voices (lol) I made my way to a congregation of staff and students of three separate schools. They were all huddled around a weird kind of racetrack-type thing and the road somehow reached up into the friffing sky. I could hear some students murmuring things like "where is Melanie the race is about to start" and "Stephen King's The Dark Tower series should've just ended after the fourth one" but then I like burst through the crowd like a ray of golden sunlight bursting thru clouds and everyone gasped. There was a podium where Dumbledore and the other nameless headmasters of the other schools stood and Dumbledore shouted "guys Melanie is here we can start the race!" and everyone cheered except Jenny Death whose expression was pretty subdued tbh but I don't care about what that poser thinks and Legola who seemed kinda sad and I made a mental post-it-note in my brain to have a D&amp;M w/ him later (no not like that you PERVS) but now it was time for the CHALLENGE.

I saw that there were three little karts at the starting line, and surmised that I was about to partake in some kind of kart-race-type thing. I don't even have my full license yet so I hope that's not a problem, lol. I observed that Roger Federator and Ann Kittenplan were already in their karts, racquets at the ready, so I hopped in the vacant kart which was solid mithril gold and had advertisements for various shampoo and soap brands plastered upon its body. I could feel my head swell up into a Super-Super Deformed form until it was larger than the rest of my body combined.

Then one of the most pixellated and scantily-clad women I have ever seen seemed to just appear out of nowhere and she held a checkered flag as 2D and low-res as she was. I wonder if she's a bonus character in Super Paper Mario or something. Then she waved the flag once…

Engines a-revving'

…twice…

Fire up the turbo thrusters etc

"Aaaaaand gooooooo!" the woman said in a rather tinny voice as she waved the flag a third and final time.

And so we were off. The crowd was roaring, like lions. Wow, that's a really good metaphor. I'll use that again sometime. Keeping true to my resolution to myself, I was just kind of cruising around the track as Ferderar and Kittenplan shot ahead of me. A bunch of peeps from previous chapters were egging me on with exclamations like "goooo Melanie!" and "put that pedal to the mettle lmoa!" and it made me want to just push forward and defeat those other losers but knew I had to ignore this impulse because I had already made my decision…

I, Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn, was going to purposely lose the Triwizard Cup so that balance might be restored to Middle Earth.

Seeing that I wasn't in a hurry, I thought I might as well enjoy the view of the race course. I saw that we were in a castle grounds-type area, but it was clear that we weren't in Hogwarts anymore. I could see pint-sized spectators with mushrooms for heads cheering us on, and so I assumed that we were in the Mushroom Kingdom. This was actually a pretty pleasant race-track; not too many sharp corners or dramatic death traps, just a shining sun and gentle hills and Princess Peach's castle in the background. In the distance, ahead of me, I could see Frederer and Kittenplan bursting through power-up boxes, which looked a bit like distilled rainbows in the shape of transparent cubes, with question marks etched upon them. I saw their arms become dramatically enlarged, Federawr's and Kittenplan's, their racquets gleaming with a sparkling golden mist. They were both totes focused on duking it out on each other, firing powerful volleys of magic-enhanced tennis balls at each other. This was slowing them both down considerably, I noticed; and without meaning to I found myself catching up to them. Remembering that I wasn't going to let myself win, I tried shifting into a lower gear, but it turns out that our karts were all automatic! And like how do you even decelerate in an automatic vehicle? I'm pretty sure you just keep surging forward without ever slowing down as the world around you erupts into a beatific blur of vague and dizzying lights, too blurry to even make out what's around you; until your vehicle breaks down or you collide into a wall head-on and it's K.O. for you, permagone, violently and dramatically demapped. It then occurred to me that driving an automatic vehicle is very similar to living what society considers to be a normal and successful adult life.

So but then I saw that I was neck-and-neck with my two rivals. Thoughtlessly I drove through a power-up box, which gave me flaming balls. I mean as in like tennis balls. I refrained from using them and my opponents were staring at me blankly and like expecting me to fire and tbh I was kind of tempted to eliminate them particularly Ann Kittenplan for ruining that game of eschaton that one time but I knew I must needs display self-restraint, for the good of the realm and all. But then the weirdest thing happened and I felt my hand like _twitching _into a tennis-serve position, as if the specter of a dead tennis player had infiltrated my body and was attempting to relive its glory like literally _through me_ and that wasn't what was happening btw that's just how it felt. But so then I found myself firing at Faderer and Kittenplan in two intense volleys of tennis-ball artillery fire. And please remember that these balls were totally flaming due to the power-up I had received so like they both crashed horribly and fell into a nearby lake. I knew that they'd be fine again once that Lakitu reporter fished them out of the water, but now I was winning! Fiddlesticks!

I suddenly became keenly aware of the curvature of the earth, and saw that the road was elevating steeply up toward the staticky cradle of space. So I held my breath as I approached the stratosphere but I realized that I could still breathe somehow? Like maybe my enlarged head was capable of storing more oxygen or something? Idk. Anyway the road was turning from your everyday asphalt-type deal into a rainbow! Which was really trippy and kinda cool! I had now left the planet's atmosphere, still speeding forward. I hoped my foes would catch up with me soon! For a second I considered flying off the track to give them a chance to get ahead once more, but I guess my self-preservation instinct was simply too strong! I could see some stars with smiling faces and they seemed really friendly and open and seemingly sentient so I telepathically asked them for guidance to help me through this whole tricky situation, to which the smiling stars, every one of them, replied in unison: "We stars are capitalists! We have no reason to assist you unless you're in a position to offer us monetary incentive for doing so!" And then all the stars smirked smugly and evaporated into the hazy infinity of fiscal unsustainability.

So then I was on my own again.

Only I wasn't, because I could hear some kind of cartoonish sniggering and maniacal giggling going on behind me! I saw that another kart had rolled up beside me, but it was neither Fred error's or Kittenplan's. This kart was purple and looked a bit like those old racecars from nineteen-fifty-forever ago. I could see that the driver was Jenny Death herself, only this time she had a cartoon villain mustache and wore a purple top hat and racing goggles! And the kart had a sidecar in which sat none other than Dobby himself! Only now Dobby had fur and emitted a ridiculously high-pitched snigger every time either he or Jenny Death spoke.

The gaudy neon gauntlet of infinity stretched before, behind and beyond us; offering no sign of any exit from the hellishness of this flat and meaningless plane. I saw that Jenny Death's car had spiky wheels, saw them creep precariously close to my unswagged-up golden mythril tyres.

"Dobby is pretty sure he specifically told Lady Melanie _not to win this race_, hihihihihihihihihihi" Dobby said evilly.

Jenny Death gazed at me for a second, her stare icy and blank, as if she were staring _through, _rather than _at,_ the very essence of my being, as if the maw of decay yielded some great beauty. Well, mayhap it does. Then she produced a small dagger, which seemed sharp enough to have been forged from the same deathly mineral as her eyes themselves.

There seemed to be something flickering in her dense gaze which momentarily betrayed some sensation of emotion other than total nihilistic darkness. _Despair? Reluctance?_

But then Jenny Death had the dagger grasped by its surgically sharp blade, the hilt suspended behind her spriggan's ear, elbow pointed at my heart as if it were a sensor mapping the trajectory of the anticipated throw.

"Melkor**(1)** sends his regards," said Jenny death, completely devoid of emotion once more as she sent the weapon spinning through the minute and limitless void that existed between our vehicles.

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. See, User ArwenEvenstar? I _have_ been brushing up on my Tolkien!1!


	21. Chapter 21: Trouble On Middle-Earth

Middle-Earth was in disarray. Oswald the Blue could feel it in his tentacles. So he telepathically summoned his trusted compatriot and fellow wizard Henry the Penguin, and together they rode Oswald's mount, Wienie, all the way to the Public Library of Truth which is on the outskirts of Elf Town and they got there at 4PM on a Saturday so they had to wait overnight until midday Sunday when it opened again. Friffing public libraries.

But so as soon as the library opened up they hit the books, in search of some…some _mention _of an ancient *cough* *splutter* -_**Prophecy-**_ *hack* *wheeze* which had long since been lost to the mists of time but which (Oswald suspected) was suddenly about to become, like, apocalyptically relevant.

They pored over stacks of dusty leather-bound tomes with yellowing pages and shockingly lame pop-up illustrations, but the books yielded no sweet whispers of any ancient prophecy worth mentioning.

So they approached the librarian. The librarian's name was Valdea. She was of indeterminate age, her complexion vaguely Elven**(1)**. They asked her (quietly, because this was a library and only fools speak loudly in libraririi of publicness _(sic)_) if this particular library had a section for prophecies and such. "Truly," Valdea replied, laughing mirthlessly, her voice a husky monotone drawl, flavored by a certain graceful world-weariness common among the elven-kin of rurality, "the only true prophecies are to be found within the soul: doubt and hatred; declarations of _certainty_ and _impossibility_… surely only these follies are fated to be fulfilled. Or inverted…" She paused to clear her throat. "But aye, the Prophecies section is just back here..."

They found themselves in a tiny room, surrounded by walls stacked with dusty scrolls. Oswald and Henry groaned at the renewed scale of their task. The hour was growing late. It was almost 3PM, which meant that the library would soon be closing up again. Oswald the Blue could see that his notoriously caffeine-dependant comrade was growing bleary-eyed and despondent.

"Want me to get you some coffee, friend?" Oswald asked Henry.

"Sure, Oswald," Henry replied appreciatively.

"Milk? Sugar? Stevia? lol"

"Two marshmallows. No more, no less."

"Coming right up, buddy."

Then Henry was alone. He donned his hat, which was actually a red rubber glove, and slicked back the inflated phantom fingers, just like that scene in The Wrong Trousers. He picked up one scroll, which was inscribed with "The Mary-Sue Files" in Comic Sans, in the colour of blood.

And so he began to read the ancient prophecy which had all afternoon been eluding them; had been tactfully eluding the zeitgeist of an entire era.

It only took a few seconds before Henry's moral conscience was unequivocally and permanently corrupted by the horrors that dwelt within the ancient text.

A few minutes later, the unassuming Oswald the Blue returned with two coffees, only to be viciously assaulted by his dear wizardly friend, who was tossing thunderbolts and distant planets around the small room, telekinetically. Oswald was shocked by the betrayal. Betrayal was not even in the like general _lexicon_ of his understanding of the behavior of sentient beings. He shed a patriotic tear, which was colored red, white and blue and had fifty stars and thirteen stripes all trapped within it.

Oswald the blue knew that his only chance of surviving the encounter was to switch into pure instinctual mode, just like he'd learned from Cid in Basic Mage Training One-Oh-One all those years ago.

From his comically tiny black wizard's top-hat did Oswald produce eight magic staffs. He did. One for each tentacle. Henry was still screwing around precariously with various celestial objects, directing some of them toward the map of his former ally. Valdea was probably super pissed off about all the ruckus that was going on right now, Oswald reflected as he armed himself and began to fire sheer bursts of elemental energy at the newly-insane Henry the Penguin. The battle was intense and SFX-heavy, which makes me glad that this is only a text-based story, because the logistics of filming this scene would be a nightmarish undertaking for any filmmaker of the low-budget persuasion.

For a second Oswald thought he had the upper hand (or tentacle, to be pedantic) and was within sight of vanquishing his friend-turned foe but then…

Henry used his magic to levitate Oswald, all the way up to the ceiling!

"_I want you to levitate me…"_ spaxeth Henry, the elderly scroll still in the possession of his malicious penguinoid mittens.

"_Don't you love me yet…?"_ respondex Oswald, his limbs magically bound to the roof-bottom of the librarium, hope rapidly deserting him, leaving behind only a will-sapped husk of his former personage.

"I serve a new master now," Henry explainethex simply, in that listless deadpan vox of his. "Said master will be very eager to learn of this prophecy, and how it pertains to one…_Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn!_"

Just then a pair of rocket-propelled rollerskates grew out of Henry's cute lil' flippers, and the wicked wizard penguin sped off, through the wall of the library and toward the residence of his new dark master, whose identity remains unknown; leaving Oswald bound 2 the ceiling (UH HUH HONEY), waiting for the spell to wear off, feeling dizzy and lightheaded and disassociated, his vision arching across itself like a Scyther's Slash attack.

Oswald thought of SuperWhoLock feels.

* * *

Ten-score leagues away, or however far ten miles is in le-old-medieval-speak, a brawl was erupting at Row-D's café, which is usually a civil and respectable establishment. A battalion of dwarves, led by the warrior poetess Gilma, who is the only female dwarf anyone has ever actually laid eyes upon, had just now been like _mightily_ peeved off by a gaggle of Halflings who were seated at the other end of the establishment. Apparently, one of the hobbitses had like totally (allegedly) filched an item of significant sentimental value which had belonged to one of the dwarves (not Gilma).

The object was a plastic dog-whistle, the spoils of a yuletide party cracker cracked some years ago.

The whistle, being a cheap plastic novelty, didn't actually work on dogs. It was in actual fact quite inaudible to canine-type entities.

The dwarves wanted the friffing whistle back, irregardlessly _(sic)_.

The sole Owlish patron of the café, name of Zareen, watched on in horror as events unfurled, racking her wise mind as deeply as it could possibly be racked for any contrivance of a symbolic olive branch to hurl into the boarded no-man's land between the two factions, baying as they were now for the blood of others and the flight of flurried fighting fists.

* * *

In his Tower of Evil, erected from the bones of all who had dared to question his might, the Dark Lord Melkor was sitting on his Throne of Slain Skellingtons and watching a live stream of the Hogwarts Triwizard Tournament. He saw the pesky Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn, unwitting enemy of the State and the Snake as well, being struck by a mithril dagger thrown by his BFF, Jenny Death. And he saw that it was good. He giggled dorkily, the Dark Lord. More like the DORK Lord, hahaha.

Melkor's manservant, Frank, entered the room, bearing tea and chumpits. "Afternoon tea, master," announced Frank in his nasally voice. Melkor, altogether too absorbed in the chaos he was viewing to care much for such trifles, emphatically declined Frank's offer. Frank was a decent enough butler, but was he evil enough to serve Melkor himself? Frank was more of a misanthrope than a genuine a-hole, Melkor reflected. He mostly preferred to keep to himself, Frank did, and watch his sole friend, a fish, name of Kemfu, glide around the depths of his small bowl, filled with H2O, than to commit any acts of actual malicious evil, like talking at the theater. Melkor was tempted to give the servant the boot. I'm getting major _déjà vu_ just from writing this, which probably means I just wandered into an idiosyncratic dimensional plane, away from my wandering human wolfpack.

So but anyway Melkor saw on the live stream that Mel had survived Jenny Death's assassination attempt! How was that even hecking possible? He saw that she was glowing, levitating in midair, taking on the ethereal form of an esper, like Terra from Final Fantasy VI. She had eschewed her body's need for a kart, and was, like, instinctively flying toward the finish line. Jenny watched on in horror, twirling her mustache angstily. Fardeeror and Kittenplan passed by her kart, and she made no attempt to even apprehend the latter.

A choir of disembodied voices was chanting: _"Princeeeeess oooof Teeeenissss"_. Melkor wondered if this singing was on the soundtrack or was actually taking place on location. It was hard to tell, sometimes.

Melanie reached the finish line, collapsing and slowly melting back into her final form as throngs of spectators cheered her on. Legolas emerged from the crowd and gave his beau**(2)** a worried hug. Dumbledore announced excitedly through a comically old-fashioned loudspeaker that the winner of the first challenge was…Melanie!

Melkor giggled nervously.

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. Can't get any solid verification on this one way or the other, but Valdea is most likely a half-elf (i.e. of mixed Elven and Human parentage).

_2\. (sic)_


	22. Chapter 22

**[AN: Be shore 2 chzek out my new story, FFree! Don't worry I will still up date this on regularly!]**

**[ANN: O yea and I do NOT approve of people whom leave racist comments on this story. A&amp;A does NOT support racism or white nationalism in any way so please don't post such things here]**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Say sum thing im giving up on u**

I awoke to find myself in a room choked with beds and the stale air of decay. I saw that Madam Pompom was there in the room with me. "How long I have been out?" I enquired weekly. "Three years." she reliped cryptically. "Nah I'm just h*cking with you my princess it's only been two days" "oh" I was wandering what happened with the race. "wat happened with the race?"I ask. "You won, Mel!" she said, extatic. Was she just being nice because I was a princess, I wondered, or was she genuinely please d that I had immerged victarion? Sometimes it was hard to tell. That's why tbh you should take constructive criticism into consideration. like don't listen too haters who just bash u for no reason that is not wat I am meaning here. What I think I mean is that if you only surround yrself with ppl who find you perfect it can kinda altar not only yr perception of yourself, but yr perception of reality, witch im sure you'll agree is a dangerous thing.

In other words, surround yrself not with peeps who will only sing yr praises; but with peeps who can be real with u and call u out on yr sh*t if they need to. Learn that criticism is not always ment harshly. Oka now back to the story.

I thought it queer that I had one the race. Tbh after Jenny Death tried to kill me during the race I thought I was a goner. But accordion to iWitness accounts I turned into an ethereal TennEsper and flu all teh way too the finish line. And there was a slightly dissonant quior who were announcing me as the princess of tennis. And I dunno wat that means but I hop it means watashi will get an anime named after me that would be soooo sugoi**(1)**! uwu

So anyway Madam Pompeii continued: "The next challenge is tomorrow apparently it will tie into the third and final challenge in someway." So I was like "k" I really hoped being the princess of tennis didn't mean I would automatically win everything tennis-related bc tbh that would be high ly problematique as please remember I was actually tring to LOSE the tournament so I could get the potion back from Dobby. Sometimes perfection is a curse.

"o yea did I get any visitors when I was out?" I axed. "Yes your beau Legola game in while u were unconscious he whatched o'er u for a while he seemed very sweet but sad some how."

In a sudden moment of emotional insight I knew that he was sad first and foremost because I was ill, but also because my unconsciousness had been painfully delaying an inevitable conclusion which tbh really should have happened like ten-fifteen chapters ago.

"Am I free to go officer?" I asked Madamn Pom-frey.

"What" she said

"oh sorry I've been speding to much time on reddit lol I should go on 4chan instead because post-ironic humour is preferable to neckbeard atheism but only very slightly better cos tbh sometimes it seems like sardonic jokes and sarcastic meme-responses to well-thought-out questions is like a shield to shelter sad 17 year olds with no direction in life who want to construct a sense of order from the chaos surrounding them and are haunted by the fact that they feel both less and differently than what they feel like they are _expected _to feel so like better to make yet another d*mb 4-panel "tfw no gf" comic as a sort of post-ironic response to something cos like it's so much easier than to actually attempt an earnest dialogue with someone because sometimes no one knows the answer to a question but nobody wants to admit that they just _don't know_ and that they're so friffing _lost_ and so friffing _sad_ so much of the time so better to numb yourself with a constant flurry of data and awful jokes that stopped being even _ironically _funny in like 2008. and don't get me started on /mu/ it's like some hipster a**hole insults your taste in music so instead of having a sincere discussion or actually like accepting that different people have different tastes and that the friff-face who was insulting you is probably just as insecure as you are, you armor yrself with 'well haha all music is bad greentext arrow implying music is good in the first place' and tbh it just nurtures this weird subculture of stagnant emotional growth masqueraded by irony. Maybe sometimes it really is okay to not know something or even to be wrong about something. I think failure is this wonderful and underappreciated 'in between' type space where a lot of beautiful and sincere stuff can actually happen if you're actually prepared to accept the fact that yes sometimes you will friff up but you can accept it with grace and openmindedness and I wish peeps on the internet could understand that because it really has amazing potential for democracy and unprecedented access to information but only if we its denizens allow it to be."

"lol add me on tumblr" said Madam

"friff off" I said, leaving the room and heading back to my dorm.

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. Japanese for "cool" or "awesome".


	23. Chapter 23

"So given that, as we have hereunto agreed, to achieve true perfection is a goal quite beyond the reach of any mere mortal," said Haldier, sitting cross-legged upon his celestial bubble, which glowed a faint aqua and drifted around the Room of Requirement like a train of vague philosophical abstraction you might half-consciously experience while gazing at a serene sky on a cloudless late-Spring afternoon, "is it then verily wise to _strive_ for perfection? Is it not pointless to expend so much effort upon that which cannot reasonably be achieved?"

Cho Chang took a moment to consider the Gondorian guard's question. Her own celestial bubble glowed a pulsing neon orange, and seemed statically suspended midair, in contrast with Haldier's bubble's directionless wafting. It seemed to be a centrifugal gravitational force around which all other celestial bubbles were fated to revolve, Cho's bubble, albeit in the eccentric, idiosyncratic manner in which everyone else's celestial bubbles were apt to float around.

"I'm not sure. I don't know anyone who isn't striving for perfection," replied Cho, pensive. "Ah, there's one person. There was someone… Mel is no longer striving for perfection," she mused, recalling her miraculous success in nearly everything.

"There is only one way to acquire the answers you seek," whispers Haldier mischievously. Cho's bubble drifts forward as she subconsciously grows more interested in the words her mentor speaketh.

"And what is this way, ultimate and true?" she inquires.

"Check the basement."

The Hogwarts basement expands perpetually, for Hogwarts was built on the island that functions as a sort of stopper or blockage between the world we know and the end of the dimensional plane setup. The basement, of course, extends into the island, and is therefore directly at the edge of the established world and partially sucked into the ever-growing mass of worlds-in-development.

Flannery, who has two heads, four arms, and four legs (and duplicates, as it were, of every other part of the human form), has lived in the basement for the better part of the past four centuries.

Cho descends the stairs, warily calling out into the expanding void. Here is where one might find items dropped under the seats of cars, cushions of sofas, or the bottom-most surfaces of vending machines. The coins, cotton swabs, brochures, and remote control battery slot covers are floating absently around Cho as she walks, and she is forced to push them away from her path of motion.

"Hello, Basement? I am here for an answer, the type of answer that can only be answered by a basement with a perpetually-expanding perspective. I am hoping—"

"You're asking a _basement?_" says Flannery. Flannery has two voices, and they speak in unison.

"A basement has no _thought_ or _perspective_, doe-eyed doe," adds Flannery.

"Yes, but I was told—" Cho is cut off.

"No, no. You're here to ask _me_, Flannery, for an answer. For all intents and purposes, I am the basement. When one tells you to check the basement, the implication is that you check the items or beings _within_ the basement, you see." Flannery is pacing at the bottom of the steps. "Say, is that the door, up there?" The steps are gone. "Ah, see, the door was there, Flannerbee."

"The door? What door? The door is a myth contrived by the capitalist machine, much like time, seeing as time is money," replies Flanneray. Flannery is in disagreement.

"Say, how do y'all even know about modern-day capitalism, seeing as you've been in a perpetually-expanding basement at the edge of existence as we know it for the better part of the past four centuries?" asks Cho intuitively. "The real question, I guess, is whether or not this is a Pirates of the Caribbean knockoff," she adds, less intuitively.

"Pirates of the Caribbean was such an overrated franchise, but Amanda Seyfried was almost as beautiful as Legola in 2001," replies Flannery.

"Verily," agrees Flannery.

"Ra-_ther,_" says Flannery. Flannery has drinks, now, and one is being delivered to Cho Chang's left hand.

"Lovely. Perfect. I was wondering, then, if the pursuit of _perfection_ is—"

"Haldier sent u, didn't he?" asks Flanneray.

"Haldier sent her. Another one sent by Haldier. Perfect," confirms Flannerbee. Cho is silent, sipping on her drink with great gall.

"Oh we'll add her to the collection," decides Flanneray.

"Which collection dost thou speaketh of? The collection of non-white characters used to fill the diversity quota or the collection of characters incited by Hal-dheer to enter the perpetually-expanding basement and ask us about the pursuit of perfection?" asks Flannerbee.

"Both, ra-_ther_," answers Flannery, looking at Cho again with a glint in their eye.

"This seems unusual," replies Cho intuitively.

"See the door, there? No, you don't; there is no door, there was never a door. Did you know I have never even had an _apple_? But we have a collection of the perpetually-living, which you must feel quite free to become a part of," informs Flannery.

"Ra-_ther_, you must be a part of it now," adds Flannery.

"So let us just escort you to the—"

"No, no, I do not wish to become part of the collection of… What did you say it was?"

"The collection."

"Collections, ra-_ther_." Flannery is wearing a tartan skirt and has a musket strapped to their back.

"I'm not a _token_ to be added to _collections_," protests Cho.

"You're the East Asian character in Harry Potter," replies Flanneray. Flannerbee is nodding in agreement.

"A token. It's tokenism," confirms Flannerbee.

"Ra-_ther_, it was quite all right at the time of Harry Potter's date of publication, considering there were very few East Asian characters in fiction at _all_ at the time," says Flannery. "Which is what we're meant to believe, anyway."

"I'm a person!"

"Yes, of course you are. So which collection were you interested in, then?"

"I think I'll just go back upstairs, for now, and maybe return later after I've convinced myself that this entire story isn't just a fever dream devised by two tremendously bored individuals on opposite sides of the globe," says Cho, turning around.

"There's no door, you see," says Flannery.

"Ra-_ther_," agrees Flannery.

"All right, then. What now?"

"You can stay here, or you can stay… here, elsewhere, rather, somewhere _here_ but not quite in my exact _vicinity_," says Flannery.

"So, in the basement?" asks Cho.

"Indeed. No one leaves the basement on account of the _door_ constantly disappearing as the basement grows _larger_. Best of luck, Cho Chang!" says Flannery as they fade into the blackness. An ancient popcorn crosses Cho's vision.

"_Fiddlesticks,_" she glowers.


	24. Chapter 24: just 2 much that time cant e

**XXIV – Breakign Up is Never Easy I No But I Hav 2 Go**

* * *

Someone once told me that time is a flat circle. I think it was Frederick Niche or whatever. I felt much better after my accident. I was sort of _gliding_ through Hogwarts, between the hospital wing and the Melanie Is Awesome common room. O the way tedium maketh all movements feel graceful and fluid, like ice skating across a vast frozen Atlantic Ocean after Ice-Nine hath rendered all the earth's bodies of water suddenly, tragically, beautifully solid! _A flat, featureless plane._

I passed by my amiable adversary in the halls; one Ann Kittenplan. She was whistling the tune to 'Calamity Song' by The Decemberists**(1)**.

"Yo, plans of the kittens!" I addressed her, causing her form to arch around reflexively and meet my pallid face as she walked. "The Ann with the Plan! How goeth it?"

Kittenplan seemed pleasantly surprised to see me up and about. "Mel!" spax she, the Mitten Sans. "Congrats on the win!"

"Fangs," I said. It was refreshing to meet someone who could take a loss in good spirits; markedly unlike that Jenny Death prep.

"Feeling better?"

"Much better, uwu."

"Glad to hear it." Kittenplan's feet ground to a stop, suspending her static in space, clutching the paved stone ground as gravigally-bound mortals are wont to do. "BTDUBS, the next challenge is on the morrow."

"Madam Pommy mentioned such."

"Feeling hyped about it?"

"I guess you could say that. Do…you know what the challenge is meant to involve?" I asked.

"Nope! It's actually ridiculous how they keep us in the dark about these potentially life-threatening challenges we're expected to undertake. I mean who do the people who organize this Triwizard thing even think they are? They put friffing _minors_ in dangerous situations we aren't even able to prepare for, and for _what_? To win some cheap glory for the school? It's kind of messed up when you think about it. It's pretty blatantly exploitative, tbh."

"Haha yeah. :^) Oh yeah, and please watch out for Jenny Death, or whatever that spriggan professor of ours is calling herself," I warned. "I'm pretty sure she's mainly trying to just kill me, but you could be caught up in the crossfire and I really don't want to be responsible for your demise." I sighed. "We may be foes, you and I; but I _do_ respect you as an individual, Kittenplan."

"Fangs, Mel."

"Well, later."

"Oh, and Mel?"

"Hmm?"

"I think your Elven bf was looking for you. Seems like he wants to talk about something. Well, later!" Kittenplan skipped off, in a matter almost as dainty as yrstruly's. I think I'm beginning to like that kid. I consider taking her under my wing. Well, _wings_, since I have two. Huge three-foot feathered monstrosities jutting from my back, with skulls etched upon them by my adopted gods of the Ephemeral Forests of Vehlwood, as recounted way back in Chapter 16.3. Oh didn't you know I had wings? Lol, I guess I never mentioned them. I can fly, I just contrarianly choose to walk everywhere. Burns calories too, just like the sun burnt Icarus's wings all those moons ago as a kind of petty revenge for the time Icarus did the frick-frack-paddy-whack with the moon, whom I just recently defeated in an epic rap battle of history.

LAAAAAWL JAY KAY I don't actually have physical wings. They're a metaphor, see?

I continued on my Ulyssean trek toward the common room.

When I returned, I was beset with cheers and revelry and congratulatory back-pats from my loyal house-mates**(2)**. Magic streamers went off. A sliver of red confetti twirled around above me; a paper lantern dragon dancing in a magically-levitating electrical lamp's dull stream of false sunlight.

Despair weighed heavily upon mine heart. I may be straightxedge, but this was the first time in a while that I had felt truly, painfully, abjectly _sober._

For you see wine is not the only substance upon whose sweet kiss one can grow drunk; human emotions can be equally intoxicating. And they can h*eck you up twice as bad as any liquor.

So I retired to my room. I blared some Rise Against the Machine and The Academy Is…On Dantooine! on my iPod speaker dock thing and then proceeded to send a barrage of fist-missiles careening onto my tidily-made bed in a flurry of formless teen angst; the sort that feels unendurable when you're caught up in its anguishing throes. I wasn't even sure why I was so angry, or upset, or whatever I was; I just knew that I felt miserable and emotionally confused and thoroughly depersonalized, and that I no longer had the capacity to conceal my myriad insecurities underneath the chain-mail of post-post-ironic royal daintiness.

I had accomplished so little in the Year of the Nimbus 3000 Racing Broom, I reflected. It had all been just a parade of gaudy threads; of beginnings which had at first seemed like glittering promises of eternity, but had all of them gradually tapered off into irrelevance at best, and nonexistence at worst. Another _fr*iffing_ year _fr*iffing _wasted, and no closer to knowing who I was. I knew I was probably going to win the Tritennis, in spite of my best efforts. And I knew that my victory would ring hollow, for all victories do; and this victory doubly so for all the lives that would now be irretrievably lost thanks to my eerie hypercompetence in all tennis-related activities.

Just then I heard a knock on the door.

It was Legola.

My insides churned, kicking around at the fleshy interior walls of my skellington, like shoes in a tumble-drier.

"Oh, hey there Faltherin." I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"Melanie…I am glad you are awake. How do you feel?" his voice was soft, trembling. He was dancing feverishly around a hellish maw, sensing the dimensions of the deathly pit not with his downcast eyes but with the prickling heat mapping his face; same as I was.

"Fine. Thanks for asking."

"Melanie…"

"Legola…"

"We need to talk." Sing-song unison, straight outta Broadway or Bollywood or something.

Under a different set of circumstances, we might have laughed about it together.

* * *

"I wonder if everyone is really just wasting their lives trying to recapture long-lost moments," Legolas mused. We were taking a walk around the school grounds, which was eerily quiet around this time of night, which was around midnightish. The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. It felt as if an entire universe existed in the space between us. My heart felt heavy. I wanted to rip it from my chest and incinerate it with my mithril flamethrower or my mithril cigarette lighter (even though I don't smoke, except at parties a couple of times. Please don't tell my dad).

"I mean we spend so much time and gil**(3)** andlike _energy_ on products and memories and vacations and…and relationships…" Legola continued, his voice dissipating, scattering to the wynter wynds like a cloud of grey ash.

"Because they recall a specific, nostalgic time in our lives," I finished my bae's thought aloud. "And we want to return to them, whenever we can. Maybe it's for a similar reason that people mainly listen to music from their teens. Or music that was inspired by that music, at least."

"Yeah," speaketh Legola.

A pause.

The moon was still a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. In case you were wondering, lol.

"But I agree. Some things just sort of _end_," I said thoughtfully, my organs still pummeling at their cages as I prepared for a moment I knew was coming. "And people have a hard time accepting that. It's as if we for some reason are convinced that to have meaning, something must be ongoing, eternal. Like the end of something diminishes its value, somehow. And I don't believe that's true. Some of the most beautiful things in life are painfully ephemeral."

"Consider the sunset," spake Legolas, pensively.

"Exactly." I thought back to our first date, at the carnival. It seemed strangely distant from the present moment, as if it had occurred in a film I'd seen or a book I'd read, and had not actually involved me directly. "And mayhap it is this discomfort, the pain of being suddenly deprived of something you have grown to love, that keeps us holding on, _hoarding_ this nostalgia like a dragon hoards treasure he or she will never actually get any tangible use from."

"…"

"…"

"Legola…"

"Melanie…"

"I think we should break up."

"I agree."

Time punctured a thousand holes in me. I didn't feel any of them. I was a worn and weary marionette, the victim of a sinister kind of cosmic acupuncture. As are we all.

I inhaled.

I exhaled.

I felt the gravitational pull of the moon above me, even though I had in fact killed it several chapters ago. Perhaps it was the ghost of a moon, and our world was bathing in the phantom silver light of a dead era.

I spake: "Legola, my faltherin, I hope we can still be friends."

Legolas sighed. "Yes, we can still be friends. But please don't call me _faltherin_ anymore."

"Well then…what is the Elven word for friend?" I asked.

"_Mellon,_" said Legola.

"OK…well…_Mellon-_ie out, lmoa!" I chortled.

And then I handed him a piece of parchment, a letter I had written some days ago, to mark an anniversary that would never be. And then, without explanation, I ran, turning my face away from my ex-faltherin's and hoping that he would not see the streams of crystal tears spattering against lush blades of grass below us; or else mistake them for stray drops of rain or the pre-morning dew with which they, my tears, would soon mingle; only to evaporate, to be caught by the sun and trapped back in the hellish and unbreakable cycle of falling and then ascending and then once more falling, falling, _falling_…

* * *

**FOOTNOTES**

1\. From the album 'The King is Dead', released by Capitol Records in 2011.

2\. All, like, ten of them. Jon Snow and his Game of Thrones peeps were there. Aragorn was there too, though he still seemed (understandably) withdrawn from social situations. Notably absent was his guard BFF, Captain Haldier. I wonder where he'd gone off to. Even Eowyn was there, and I have nothing against her anymore but she kinda has this way of fading into the background like tbh don't think I've even really registered her existence since roughly fifteen chapters ago at that party, lol. But she's been there with us all the way, ever stoic and reliable. Oh yeah and Draco had quit Slytherin to join Melanie is Awesome, which was really sweet of him! :3 We don't talk much these days though. I hope he's doing well on his quest.

3\. The currency of this Middle-Earth Hogwarts land place in which I have found myself in _(sic)._


	25. Chapter 25: Gotta Catch 'em Ball!

I was there - physically, at least - among lush Scottish fields. A huge black gate stood before us like an eagerly salivating maw, waiting to gobble us whole. Roj Fadera fastened his hachimaki headband around the circumference of his bulbous forehead, which tbh made him look like a poser. You know who else are posers? Those friffing Saxe Coburg preps. Ffs Scotland should be independent. Or even better, they should be subjects of the kingdom of Rohan, lol. Mario "Itsa me!" Incandenza, Kittenplan's hunchback red-cap-and-blue-overalls-wearing savant broski from Enfield, was taking cool scenic landscape establishing shots. I think his dad was a filmmaker too or something but thb I recallen't. Dumbledore sat up high in his Wheeled Siege Tower of Pacifism, his electronically-amplified and distorted voice (the mic was autotuned and vocodered, lol) patiently explaining the rules of the second challenge to the vast sea of heads and bodies that had gathered to see us off. I wondered if Legola was among them...

"On my signal," spake Dumbledore, sounding like 808's &amp; Heartbreak-era Kanye West, "our brave and supple contestants will do an enter into this here enclosure. There, they will have twenty-four hours to find, capture and tame a wild tennis ball. These tennis balls will be used by our contestants in the final challenge, so the higher level the better!"

Misfit miscreant first year Colin Creepy ran up to us, we, the challengers (but not like the spaceship cos that's disrespectful) and handed us each a satchel of Gatorade bottles. "Throw these at the wild tennis balls," explained Colin, panting on account of him being quite out of breath. "It'll make them easier to placate."

It was around then that I was starting to wonder about the ethics of this here challenge.

I heard Hogwarts groundskeeper Augustus Filch fire an AK-47 into the sky (which caused Jon Snow to flinch for some reason) and Dumbledore sayeth "And...GO!" and the gate opened as if by magic and we all entered the magical world of...BALLMON.

Kittenplan, Fodrearer and I found ourselves beholding an implausibly vast and varied landscape.

"I don't think we're in Scotland anymore..." Kittenplan muttered between tired exhalations.

Then Ferderer brusquely pushed Kittenplan and I aside and proclaimed "For ze glory of Sturm und Drang school boku no will win this CHALLENGE! HIYA!" and then with uncharacteristic bravado he stole into the Ballmon world. I wondered if his hachimaki had taken over his mind or something but that's silly like who would even do that?

I noticing that my Melan-ki was getting awful low yessiry btu I kept truckin on liek a captain.

I nodded at Kittenplan as if liek to say "good luck babeo but I'm not a lesbian but i am bi but only for cite females celebs" and we headed in different directions and i was heading to a caynon as i was walking i saw all different kinds of balls jjust kind a boubncing around in the wilder ness and all the balls where living &amp; had qt anime faces and I was looking for a weak ball bc if u recale I am trying t2o lose this whole friffing challenge which has tbh taken up way too many chapters of this story already but the n I saw a MAN.

And but so the man was strolling around the place and he had a sachet over his shoulders and he had a red bulbous nose and a purple top hat but thank fully NOT a fedora.

And I noticed that the ground arond me and like teh General canyon aria was checkquered liek a checkqurebored or something lol.

And but so like the man walked up to me and he sad; : "Spot the muffin! Spot the muffin! I'm the muffin man I am!"

And I noticed that there was a muffin in the muffin man's hand so I said "'Tis in yr outstretched hand m'lord."

And he said "whe'll are you not a sight for saw eyes. U are. Correckto. Hear is yr prise." And then he gave me the muffin witch was very nice off him. :3 And then the Muffin Man zoomed off on his roller skates.

And I sat down for a whil and aspected teh muffin and I then remember that I broke up with legola earlier sooo yrstruly was pretty sad about that and I had a headache again actually witch sucks. But may be the headache was helping to distract be form the break-up liek nothing felt real which was true most of the time so may be it was okay to let myself feel numb and confused until i culd deale with teh prob leem on an intellectual level first.

Then I went for a walk around and I was bored and I saw a tennis ball so then I swiched to the random encounter screen and I saw that the ball was about to attack and on the HUD screen is said that the ball was level five witch is weak as heck so I threw a bottle of gatorad the ball and it screamed in pane. Like it was literally the most horrible wail ever. And I was like "god ball I am sorry" and i felt awful that these peaceful creatures were being randomly attacked and captured like this en masse so humans could compete in dumb tournaments. Humans lately have been reaping too much and not sowing enough and it's really harming the environment and nature around us. Like life is beautiful and ecosystems are fragile and it's sad that we're exploiting our surroundings and creatures with whom we should be coexisting. just on a drunken whim like are we really that cruel? :c any way I got off the box of soap I was inexplicably standing on and the lil ball was still crying but it wiped its tears away (somehow) and sobbingly said "wow, you're...princess Melanie, aren't you!?" and I courteseyed and then said "yes that is me and flinging Gatorade at you was not very princessly of me and i would like to do an extend of what is being my royal apologies."

And the ball starts chanting "PRINCESS OF TENNIS PRINCESS OF TENNIS" like in the Mario Kart chapter And i was confused. But then I heard that it was harmonising with some thing but like what? It was coming from inside my ruck sack so I rummaged through it and I saw the muffin was chanting it too like what the actually heck? But then the muffin levitated out of my backpack and it turned itself inside out midair which sounds painful and I said "I say! Never in all my years have I witnessed a muffin doing that!"

But then the muffin said in a Ukrainian accent (btw FREE UKRAINE!) "I'm not a muffin! I'm a tennis ball I am!"

And I saw that it was true and the tennis ball was golden and shimmering which probably means it was a rare and/or high level ball.

And both my newly acquired balls were like "follow me, o princess of tennis" and they were bouncing toward a crystal staircase full of crystal stairs and I saw that it led up to one of the two moons in the sky. This moon was a pink moon, like that song by Drake lol.

So with a sigh I followed my two balls up the stairs. I suddenly felt real tired. And my mind was beginning to drift. I thought of the other contestants. I knew Faderror was meant to win as per Dobby's gambit, but I was secretly holding out for Kittenplan cos she was a cool cat. Then I thought about Legola and my heart went off like a semiautomatic. It felt strange to me that I felt more for Legola now after we'd broken up than I ever did while we were dating. The living in the moment thing that all those lame motivational memes keep mentioning is impossible, it seems to me. Mayhap it is easier to live in the past because it is set in stone and won't throw any curveballs at you, and so it's kind of comforting like. Even the future, while fluid, is better than the present because you get to explore fantasies and multiple avenues of possibility. The present is just kind of bleak. I kept climbing. I wanted to sleep. But I just kept following those balls, y'all.

But then I saw a shadowy figure on the stairs above me and it looked mysterious and kind of sinister and woah is that a machete it was carrying? Oh god RANDOM ENCOUNTER RANDOM ENCOUNTER!

So I stopped in my tracks but the figure was coming toward me and the balls hopped out of the way innocuously and I saw that there was a cheap theatrical floodlight lighting up the shadowy figure so I could see his face and...Oh my gee whiz! It was the man made of blood and flesh and veins and skin! And he was coming at me with a thunder machete which was forged by Zeus himself!

PREPARE FOR BATTLE Y'ALL!

* * *

Jenny Death and Dobby entered Dumbledore's tower, where he sat observing the challenge through a pair of extraordinary extending eyeglasses that looked like little telescopes protruding from his forehead. Jon Snow stood there, guarding him.

"Ah, Professor D'Morticia!" Dumbledore exclaimed with a jovial chuckle, noticing the newcomers. "Come to watch our brave competitors from this marvellous vantage point?"

"No," Jenny Death said shortly. She pulled out a glowing sword, seemingly from thin air like a JRPG character preparing for combat."Come to claim what is mine."

She now had Dumbledore's full attention. And Jon's, who was reaching for his Valyrian steel sword, preparing to strike.

Dumbledore was flustered. "D-do you mean to usurp my rightful position as Head Coach?"

Jenny Death chuckled icily. "More than that, you old fool. I aim to take it all!" Her armed arms made a sweeping gesture. "The Age of the Door of the Dumble is no more. Dumblenomore, they should call you! Haha!"

Dobby chortled rabidly. Then he lunged at Jon Snow, stabbing the young Nightswatchman through the heart with a house elf throwing knife thing.

Dumbledore gasped. Jon died.

Jenny Death inched toward the old man, her own blade shimmering a magicka-type violet.

"Looks deadly..." Dumbledore said weakly, the old age he had long concealed flushing through him like some acidic fluid. He cowered over in one of the room's corners.

"Oh, this?" Jenny stopped a few feet away from her prey, and held the point of her sword precariously close to Dumbledore's lined face. "This weapon is H*eckrender. Not only is it deadly sharp, it is also cursed with the Imperio spell. So whomever it strikes will sin against their will in their final moments, and thus be cast down into the deepest darkest pits of h*eck!

Dumbledore was sweating, fearful, but also visibly fascinated. "Oh my, that is _ingeniously_ wicked. You wouldn't be Catholic by any chance, would you?"

Jenny Death smirked cooly, and then plunged the blade into Dumbledore's heart.

Dumbledore's heart was the exact shape and colour of a tennis ball.

Dumbledore said the "f" word (i.e. "friff"), and then did a few other unspeakable things which I won't mention because this is meant to be a family-friendly story, lol, and then he died. His last thoughts were of Grindelwald, of those endless summer evenings the two had spent playing tennis together and watching golden clouds between strokes; and those clandestine soujourns they'd take at night, lost in the rhythmic simplicity of bare footsteps in sync with the pummeling of their young hearts, both of them daring to wordlessly consider the sweet infinity that seemed laid out before them like a glittering prize, both of them knowing deep within their veiled souls that this joy would soon stumble and burn and turn to ashes in their trembling mouths and be cast down forever into the murky depths of a damned pit whose dimensions can never be known, only _felt…_


	26. Chapter 26: No More Sardines

The man made of blood and flesh and veins and skin came at me, bruh, and I braced. But not too hard, cos my skimpy fake bandit parents didn't have a dental plan for me and so my teeth are resultantly annoyingly crooked and askew, which fact causes me even now to avoid smiling in a way that reveals any part of my mouth, which is ever sectioned off behind clamped lips. But just before the moment of impact I saw that the man's head was growing bulbous, fast, like a squid eating dough out of a polyethylene bag. His entire head was spherical like a shimmering crimson Christmas bauble; and then not a moment later he was shrieking and I could see that his head's skin was staring to flake grotesquely, and the flakes hardened like the many faces of a diamond, and each face produced a column of neon light, each of a different colour; his head now resembling not a crimson bauble so much as a disco ball. The man was on his knees, writhing in agony. I could faintly hear the sound of a Bee Gees song from far off. I jived to the rhythm a little. I felt almost sorry for the man made of blood and flesh and veins and skin, caught as he was in his feverish breakdance of imminent death. It must be hard to be so absurdly _seventies_ in the twenty-first friffing century. The days of disco are long dead, my friends; deader than the malevolent man whose upper body had just now inexplicably transformed into one of its queer and gaudy artifacts.

I saw that the disco ball was slowly opening up like a psychedelic oyster. I peeped curiously inside its kaleidoscopic maw, and found not a rainbow pearl but a portal to another dimension. I groaned. I was really starting to grow tired of those things. But then I saw my two balls - the ordinary, low-level anthropomorphic tennis ball and its more powerful anthropomorphic inverted-muffin-slash-gilded-tennis-ball associate - bounce, gleefully, headfirst into the portal; I supposed I had no choice but to follow.

* * *

Well, just what is Mistress Jenny Death waiting for, if Dobby might be so bold as to enquire? - Dobby

You know how I feel about speeches. And heights... - Jenny Death

Dobby is doing the wishings and fishings to ensure Mistress Jenny Death that Dobby is being fully confident in Mistress Jenny Death's oratory abilities. - Dobby

Yes, you of all people would be... - Jenny Death

... - Dobby

... - Jenny Death

Uh, anyway, Dobby would do likes and bikes to impart a small smidgeon of advice upon Mistress Jenny Death before her monumental speech to her new (and as of the moment of presentness still quite ignorant of her glorious dominion over the vast and ever-expanding multiverse) subjects. - Dobby

Well, spit it out! - Jenny Death

Well, Dobby has done much research into the politics and in particular the political discourse of modern human society, and Dobby has found that the voting plebs seem to respond perhaps concerningly positively to childish rhetoric and inane three-word slogans. Dobby would therefore humbly advise shoehorning these into Mistress Jenny Death's speeches and public addresses wherever conceivably possible! - Dobby

... - Jenny Death

... - Dobby

Well, OK, how about...uh..."No More Sardines"? - Jenny Death

Dobby is honoured and delighted to serve a mistress of such towering powering showering flowering intellect as Mistress Jenny Death, Mistress Jenny Death! - Dobby

* * *

So I emerged from the groovy transdimensional portal ball and I was kinda hoping to arrive in the 70s or the movie Boogie Nights or something but instead I saw that I was in some kind of lame forest or something like that. And even more than dimensional portals was I sick and tired of froofing trees and fracking forests! "Phooey and drat and tarnation!" I cursed emphatically like a cowbo of yore. I turned to my balls, who were bouncing enthusiastically beside me. "Well I'll be gee and whillickered for six," I continued in a Texan drawl even though literally all I know about Texas is from Texas Pete from the classic British children's cartoon Superted (which y'all really need to be watching) and also the films of Richard Linklater, esq. "Where are we, anyhow?"

The golden muffin ball cleared his throat and whispered, "Where you need to be..." in a spooky skeleton voice. Happy Halloween everyone.

"Take a look around you..." prompted the green ball, and this sentence is actually really clever because it's punning on the word "green" because it is referring not only to the ball's colour, but also its lack of experience and worldly knowledge. But it also appears to be a subversion or "irony" in this instance, because as it turns out _I _was the (figuratively) green one in this situation for not paying attention to my immediate surroundings! Gosh, I'm so postmodern.

But anyway, I noticed that all of the trees in this place had roots made of fiber-optic cables. And inside their trunks were glowing computer monitors from straight out of 1995 (pre-subsidised time). I wondered if this was where Brian Eno lived. All of the PCTrees were chanting "Princess of Tennis" in chiptune. So maybe I'm more, like, post-_modem!_

Wow, I'm really on fire this chapter!

But like so then I saw that the leader of the PCTrees come toward me. He used his fiber-optic roots to walk around as if they were tentacles; I was reminded of Oswald the Octopus, and shed a solemn tear for his valiant sacrifice. The leader's upper body consisted of nothing but a metal tray and an old laptop from the 90s atop it.

"Melanie," said he, in autotune, "Princess of Tennis. And, uh, Rohan too. Allow me to introduce myself. I am , and I am the Seer of my People. Thou must have many questions for me..."

"I doooo," I replied measuredly.


	27. Chapter 27

"How much responsibility do we bear for the sins we have forgotten?" Vah'ni giggled obliquely as she surfboarded down a flight of stone stairs, all Legolas-style.

"Oh hey Vah'ni," Mel rapped Wu-Tangly.

"And but so," the expositioned prophetically, "as I was saying before, you are the new Princess of Tennis, meaning you are literally incapable of losing any game or tournament that has any relation to tennis or involves tennis paraphernalia in any way."

"But how did this happen?" Mel third person perspectived. "Aside from that steamy Ann Kittenplan/La Mont Chu slashfic I wrote and uploaded to Fan fiction dot net, which fic takes place during a particularly sensual game of strip-Eschaton, I've never before now displayed much of an interest in anything to do with tennis, like at all. Why me, is basically the crux of the question I am posing to thee," Mel De La Souled.

"Well you see," Oracle lit a silly cigarette which was also a pinwhistle, and offered one to Mel, which I (Mel) refused because I am straight edge and proud, "the previous Princess of Tennis, Venus Williams, had to relinquish her titles when she decided to become a Sailor Scout."

"The most dramatic Sailor Moon: Crystal story arc to date!" Gimli cameoed.

"And so the title fell to you, Melanie, my love," crooned Oracle. "And as the *cough* *wheeze* Prophecy *choke* now applies to you, it also means that any offspring you produce will become the King or Queen of Tennis, and be destined to sit upon the Wimbledon Throne, which was forged centuries ago from fire and brimstone and AstroTurf."

"Well gee golly that's too bad about the offspring thing," I said anachronistically, thinking about my ex-faltherin with a wistfulness tinged with bitterness, "for I shan't be having any children. It's the lonely life for me. Log cabins and talking kettles and thirty-six cats are all the company I care to keep!"

"Not so, doe-eyed doe..." spake a mysterious, disembodied female voice with an echo effect, much like that of a spoopy ghost from an old film. This party was starting to get crowded. "You _will _bear a child, and that child _will _grow up to be a monarch of the racquet..."

I heard an owl hoot from somewhere far off.

"And how the friffing friff do you know all of this tosh?" I demanded of the strange voice. I was starting to get mightily peeved off by all of these queer folks who seemed to be dictating my destiny for me.

"Because I can always see what's going on underneath a dress, sweetkin," the voice did so pervily purr.

"Err...what?"

"You're pregnant, Melanie!" chirped , revalatorily.

Party streamers popped. A gaggle of computers gleefully abandoned the refuge of their hollow digitree homes, and began to boogie like it was anno domini nineteen ninety-nine, which it might have been. Fireworks went off. A jazz band on a stage draped with a banner of all the world's flags was playing swinging bebop renditions of Nick Drake songs. Hummus was served. It was a partay.

I was somewhere deep inside my gut, ever sinking. _Me, preggers? _I internal monologued, totally in shock. _But that's impossible! I only did the frick-frack one time! _But thenI remembered that Legolas and I hadn't used protection during our gnarling throes of wolf-sex. Which is not a good idea. If you're going to do "The Deed", make sure you take the proper precautions. Even though it might seem daunting to talk about stuff like that, you should really discuss it seriously with your partner beforehand. Winding up with an unexpected pregnancy can be a pretty life-changing ordeal if you're not prepared for it, even if it is part of some prophecy-type thing.

I thought of Legolas. Even though we were broken up now, I knew that he was an honourable elf and would help to raise the child and maybe even pay child support because I know that Elven princes are usually pretty minted. I knew that I had to blow this popsicle stick and tell him about the pregnancy, and that we would worry about the still pretty vague prophecy and our ominous breakup later.

But then, just as I was beginning to edge away from the strange shindig that surrounded me, I saw that the revelry had stopped. All eyes were skyward, all mouths agape. Quizzically, I turned my own eyes to the sky, and watched in horror as the heavens above turned blood red and spewed fireballs at the earth. Countless background characters erupted into flames. Frenzied screams mingled with the gutteral, apocalyptic roar of a planet-spanning inferno. _I need to get back to Hogwarts, _I thought desperately as I choked on a thick ocean of smoke that now surrounded me, swallowing me whole. _Legola... Our baby..._

And then the world gave a feeble, resigned sigh, and reality was split in twain, as definitively and permanently as a severed spinal cord.


	28. Chapter 28: You won't BELIEVE what happe

**AN: Sorry 4 teh belatedness of this chapter, but I've been going thru sum [41 lol] personal issues like breaking up with mine boyfriend and developing an addiction 2 tofu so ive gone abit of the rails. This story has aslo increased in it's scope. I feel a bit liek George RR Tolkien as he's writing the popular Game of Thones sirius. It takes longer to wright cos the intricate story strands of mine story grow more complex and more difficult to resolve. But I hath written this great chapter and drafted several other chapters which will be coming out soon, as the story continues to evolve from it's humble love triangle beginnings into a profound and philosophical literary masterwrok, lol. Fangs for reading, keep those reviews cumin, and LIVE LONG AND PROSPER!**

* * *

Captain Haldier of Gondor sighed a weary sigh as the overenthusiastic tour guide emphatically ushered the group through the gilded gates of the FriffCorp Media Empire's main Headquarters. Before their very eyes lay the ground floor of a vast palace filled with extravagant classical statues, lavish fountains, and rows of squat, chipper mythical creatures, whom the tour guide referred to as members of that rare and noble (and also rather squat and apparently musically-inclined) race of Intern-Winterns, tapping furiously at adamantium typewriters. The rest of the tour group certainly appeared to be utterly awestruck by this dazzling display, but to Haldier, the whole spectacle was just so much friff; all gaudied-up nonsense designed to distract everyone from the utter dearth of anything resembling a soul. Haldier had been feeling that way about a lot of things lately. He found himself sighing a lot, and feeling old and decrepit and worn-out, despite his relative youth. As much as he loved King Aragorn, he longed for a reprieve from his service. Nothing fancy, mind you, just a weekend away from the drudgery of it all, that he might spend some time with his wife and daughter, whom he felt he had been neglecting of late. And not to mention his young apprentice, who was at a crucial phase in her training, and would likely be requiring his guidance. As his thoughts wafted and drifted gloomily like a winter cloud, Haldier saw that the group was presently being approached by a portly, slug-like, grey-haired man in a purple suit, who walked with the aid of a gilded cane, and smoked a cigar near as fat as he was. Haldier noticed that the smoke came out in the shape of a skull and crossbones. The man had a menacing air, which gave Haldier an acute case of the howling fantods, even before he realised who it was that now stood before him.

The tour guide squealed obnoxiously. "OMFG!" she 1337-sp3ak3d. "And right here is the man himself, His Lordship and Media-Mogulship himself! Looooooooord Ruppert Murder-dock!"

The group clapped excitedly. Haldier pretended to share their enthusiasm.

"Now booooooow before His Newspapership!" she commanded them, with her rather sugary brand of forcefulness.

Haldier bowed with the rest of them, but his mind, ever tactical and cunning, was hard at work.

"G'day mates," Ruppert spake merrily, his jaunty jowl rising and falling along with the low grumble of his prolonged syllables.

"Good day," Haldier replied in a clipped tone. He knew he had to be polite, lest his cover be blown. But it was, like, _so hard _to take this guy seriously, let alone remain unrepulsed by his rotund and gaudy appearance, which seemed to stand as a living, stumbling, waddling shrine to excess and **AVARICE**.

"G'day Lord Murder-dock," chirped the others in perfect harmony, which seems to happen a lot in this universe.

"I love you soooooo much," the tour guide squeaked to Lord Murder-dock. She was still bowing fervently.

"You may riiiiiiiiiise," said Mr Ruppert, sounding like Jabba the Hutt's Australian cousin or something.

There was half a minute of creepy silence. Everyone just sort of stood there. Haldier could hear the Intern-Winterns tap-tap-a-tapping at their keyboards. Bland elevator musak was crackling from a PA somewhere.

"So," Murder-dock rubbed his palms together like a greedy fly, "who wants a friffing tour of me friffing newspaper office factory place?"

The group erupted into a frantic chorus of "Oooh! Me! Me! Me!"

Haldier let out a single, sober "Aye."

They all boarded a rowboat, carved from mithril-mahogany and powered by the heart of a dark star (and also rowing). They paddled down an indoor river, which Murder-dock-senpai had dubbed "The River of Clickbait." Haldier threw a coin into the river and smirked slyly, but nobody got the reference. One of the passengers, one Heckuis Tarnation of Flamingsphere, Minnesota, nine years of age and in the prime of the rhyme, asked the mogul naively, "Why do they call this the River of Clickbait, m'lord?"

Ruppert just laughed a guttural, demonic chuckle of death, and proceeded to ruffle the small boy's mess of straw-coloured hair. "M'boy, this is the River of Clickbait because this is where Clickbait is baited!"

His fleshy hands gestured grandly over to a group of Intern-Winterns, who were fishing by the side of the river for lower than minimum wage.

Mr Murder-dock hurled a boot in their general direction, and they began to sing, rods still in hand:

"_Intern-Wintern winterny-woo  
I have a rad madrigal for you  
Intern-Wintern winterny-wee  
What could this 'Clickbait' possibly be?"_

Then the tempo and melody suddenly changed into a samba-ish rhythm. One of the Intern-Winterns started to rap, while the others provided some sweet #ethereal backing vocals.

_Clickbait  
I r8 your b8  
8/8 m8  
Haha good meme  
But seriously  
Let me tell you 'bout my theme  
Clickbait, a lot of journalists do it  
If you listen to me, then you will see through it  
Clickbait, is when your make your headline  
Outrageous, misleading, and completely malign  
So people will click on your article  
Or read your papes; this doesn't rhyme  
But now it does…uh…"_

The rap tapered off into oblivion.

Murder-dock continued, barely managing to suppress his righteous rage over his unpaid and mistreated staff's lack of work ethic, which was totally their own fault. "Ahem. Clickbait has existed in journalism since at least the nineteenth century, when it was known as 'Yellow Journalism'. It has recently enjoyed a resurgence thanks to the increasing popularity of social media websites like Friffbook, Friffer, and Friffblr. Obviously, you can't include an entire news article in a single post, as the aforementioned sites have word limits and suchthelike. Furthermore, you will make zilch in the way of that sweet Gil-revenue-cha-ching unless you encourage suckers to click on the link that takes you to your own website, because that's where your sponsors display their advertisements."

Miss Wart Pepper, who, despite her name, was actually the single most attractive woman Haldier had ever seen in his life, asked Murder-dock, "Who are some of _your _sponsors, your lordship?"

He waved one of his hands around, airily. "Oh, you know, certain lobbyists, one or two federal governments. I'm not one to name names or anything, but it's a two-way stream. We like to help each other out." He chuckled good-naturedly. "So anyway, mates, what we do with our headlines, rather than provide an overview or summary of the events reported in the article itself, is to, uh, basically create a feeling of anxiety, of unknowing, of incompleteness, which can only be sated by clicking through to the article! Invariably, the article itself will be a total let-down, and may even be almost completely unrelated to the headline we bated on the other website. But that's okay, because by then they've seen our backer's advertisement, and the deal is done! Haha!"

Everyone chuckled.

Haldier was growing impatient. "I have seen some of this clickbait in my time, my lord, despite being a character from a high fantasy world where the internet doesn't even exist yet," Haldier shattered the fourth wall, which was pretty brittle to begin with. "And it seems like you're deliberately misleading people! Taking advantage of this generation's…of its addiction to data, to having their queries resolved at the click of a button! When thou doth verily vomit out some headline that says…you know… 'If you like drinking coffee, you're gonna want to read this…' and then include some obvious stock photo of some coffee-drinker looking anxious, and then link the photo to some recycled FriffCorp dot com article about how drinking ten cups of sweetened coffee in a row might not be so great for your liver, according to a panel of undergrad med students…"

"_Mmmyeeess?_" Lord Ruppert prompted meekly, failing to see what H-man was getting at.

"Isn't that kind of _unethical_?" Haldier finished, weakly.

Ruppert ruffled Haldier's hair playfully, which seemed to kind of be Ruppert's signature thing. "M'boy, how could any of that friff you just spoke of possibly be seen as _unethical_? I mean, it's not like we're _lying_, or anything…"

"Well, not _technically_, but…"

"And we pride ourselves on having Freedom of the Press on this here Shard Plane. Um, I mean, _country_. This country. Which I rule legitimately, bt dubs."

"But…"

"And do we not also have Freedom of Speech in this nation, enshrined in our Constitution? Do you not cherish your g*sh-given freedom to express yourself freely?"

"Of course I do!"

"Are you a _Commie_, m'boy?"

"_What?_ No!"

At this, Ruppert spake into a little microphone pinned onto his lapel, and recorded a voice memo: "Note to self: new Friffbook post: _'Captain Haldier, Devious Ringleader of the Traitorous Malaise Scum that is the Gondorian Tyranny of Doom Death Cult Welfare Nanny State 69 Unionists, is a friffing COMMIE RAT.'_ Anyway, where were we?"

Haldier paused to compose himself. A lone bugle sounded solemnly in the background. A patriotic background of stars and stripes enraptured the entire building. The Gondor flag has stars and stripes too. And a tree.

Spaketh Haldier:

"Of course freedom of speech and freedom of the press are good things. But what I think you've lost sight of is the fact that with great freedom comes great responsibility. That's what my uncle Benmir taught me before he was friffing _MURDKILLED _by Githyanki pirates. You, sir, possess one of the most influential media empires in the whole of Middle Earth. You could use that for good. You could use it to inform your readers of unbiased facts, provide unprecedented access to information, and ensure that reporting is effective and fast-paced without needing to sacrifice truth or ethics. Instead you…you _squander_ these opportunities on emotionally manipulative language and—"

But Haldier's speech was interrupted when one Heckuis Tarnation of Flamingsphere, Minnesota, nine years of age and in the prime of the rhyme, leapt emphatically into the River of Clickbait.

All gasped. One person fainted, but for unrelated reasons. It got pretty stuffy in this building at this time of day.

It was an agonising few moments as the group waited for the lad to resurface from the murky depths of bullfriff.

But just then, _avast, ye maties, virus database has been updated!_

One Heckuis Tarnation of Flamingsphere, Minnesota, nine years of age and in the prime of the rhyme, leapt straight into the air like a friffing kipper or some other kind of fish that leaps around out of the water. He jumped right over the rowboat, flapped his mouth open and shut, and, whilst midair, uttered one single horrifying, prophetic sentence; a phrase so game-changing and ground-breaking that Middle Earth and the Mirror Shard Planes would never fully recover from the sheer monumental gravity of his incredible words.

_**Click through to find out what he said.**_


	29. Chapter 29

**[AN: The plot thickens. Please leave reviews and comments, they #GMH!]**

* * *

**Zareen**

* * *

**DAY 14**

_The world has become a cold and cruel place. It has been two weeks since the day the sky wept flames, and strangely, few can remember it. Based on the little I've been able to gather from the guards and the moanings of the prisoners in the cells adjacent to my own, no-one is even aware that such a cataclysm ever took place. Which is certainly queer, to put it mildly._

_In fact, on the day the sky wept flames, our plane of reality was violently fragmented into seven so-called "Shard Planes". Each of these Shards is now under the oppressive rulership of a Lord of the Plain. Who-oo-hooooot are these Lords, you may be asking? Well you might recognise some of their names: Melkor, Sauron, The King of the Orcs, Brittney Spheres, Zeus, Ruppert Murder-Dock, and…yes, Jenny Death, in whose Tower of Friffery I am now a helpless captive._

_One of the guards, Makkan, who is much nicer than that mean old friffhead Gamon, sometimes chats with me when the latter isn't around. One day I brought up the day the sky wept flames, and he replied that he hadn't the foggiest idea of what I meant. I pressed him, and all I could gather was that, in his own words, "Things have gotten sad somehow, these past few weeks. Lonely, disconnected. Maybe that's why I'm here, fraternising with prisoners, in spite of the strict rules that forbid me from doing such a thing…"_

_At the time, I'd assumed that Makkan was withholding information from me. Amiable though he was, he _was_ a prison guard, after all, and I was but a prisoner._

_But later on, when I whispered to the occupant of the cell next door about it all (there was a crack in the wall or whatever and that's why I could hear him), he confessed much the same thing: that he was perceivably sadder than he would usually be, but that he couldn't recall anything about any friffing apocalyptic lava-rain or nuffink_ [sic]. _So I asked him how long he'd been a captive in this dungeon, and he replied, "Just a few hours innit m8. And even 'fore I was a prisoner I ain't know nuffink 'bout no flaming sky now, innit?"_

* * *

**DAY 15**

_Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for an owl to be locked away in a prison cell? Can you imagine being blessed from birth with wonderful wings and the liberty of flight, only to be captured and cooped up (no pun intended) in a dank and smelly stone cell that's far too cramped for you to even stretch your wings? Jenny Death has snatched from me my freedom, my spirit, and my joy, with no indication of ever releasing me. Can you even comprehend how viciously this cruel imprisonment must constantly gnaw upon the august dignity of my royal being?_

_But I know I can't give in. I must keep a shard of metaphorical hope clutched in my withered talons. I must find a way to escape. I must once again lay eyes upon my ailing father, while he still draws breath. I must do my part to fulfil a prophecy, to guide those Prophesised toward the noble deeds they are fated to accomplish. I must get out of Jenny Death's dungeon, must fly far away from her Tower of Evil, must escape her dystopian nightmare of a shard plane. But how?_

"Ello guvna!"

"_Who-hoo-oo is that?"_

"Oi calm yerself, m8. I ain't ere to urt ye or nuffink!"

A stocky, muscular man with facial scarring and a spiked helmet was standing in my prison cell, all of a sudden. He was carrying a scythe and picking his nose.

_Must've drifted off earlier without knowing it._

"Are you-hoot… are you Death?" I asked him, nervously and slightly groggily perching myself off in the dungeon's rear corner, edging as far from this strange intruder as I possibly could. Then I laughed at my own silliness, finally recognising his voice. "You're that prisoner I was talking to on the yester!"

"Not the brightest bird are ye? But that's awright aye. Me name's Yangus." He motioned over to the prison wall, which I only now noticed had been smashed open, probably by his sheer brute strength or something, innit. "Pretended teh be a prisoner just teh free ye, didn't I? Unless I got the wrong cell, ahahaha. Yer name wouldn't 'appen to be Zareen, by any chance?"

"_Ahem._" I puffed out my chest, in an attempt to affect a regal manner that my father would be proud of. "That's _Princess_ Zareen to you, heir to the Kingdom of the Owls."

"Constitutional monarchy, innit?" Yangus did so brusquely brush off my august authority. "Lucky for ye, yev got a friend 'oo wants ye free. Seys ye can be of 'elp."

"And who-ooo is this friend?" I asked, tentatively.

"Lady Gilma, that Dwarven bird," Yangus did a spakety-spoo of. "Come on aye, time te 'eave off before the guards get here!" he cock-neyed (wow, so many unintentional bird puns this chapter).

* * *

_Gilma..._

_Her name hit my ears like a spiked Q-tip. All the memories of the past few months came flooding back to me. The friendship, the adventure, the torrid affair, the breakup… And now it seems she had gone to great lengths to break me out of Jenny Death's dungeon! It was all so much to take in at once._

_So I stopped taking it in, and I __**flew**__, as Yangus led the way and bashed down walls and smashed locks and other brvtal prison break things like that._

But then the friffing guards caught us, whilst we were fleeing down a generic dungeon corridor.

_Friff._

Gamon unsheathed his Bastard Sword +2 and made a few dramatic swings with it, kind of like in pre-battle cut-scenes in JRPGs.

"I knew Jenny Death should have just had this FRIFFING owl executed," he bellowed.

"Come on now, lady Zareen," Makkan good-copped. "Let's get you back to your cell. I'm sure we can work out a better arrangement for you both."

But Gamon just pushed the meeker guard out of the way, and the battle did then beginneth.

So we all rolled twenty-sided dice (mine was gilded because I am a royal and I also just really like gold) for initiative. Gamon rolled a natural twenty, which was problematic for Yangus and I, because we rolled seven and three respectively. Makkan rolled a five but had a minus four to initiative rolls because he'd just been pushed over by Gamon, which is a rule new to the A&amp;A 5.5 ruleset, and which Gamon should have heeded before deciding to push his own ally over, smh what a noob.

So Gamon went first.

As a level seven Barbarian/Guard he had access to the Encounter-type ability "Pummelling Headbash", which he directed towards Yangus. Gamon needed to roll higher than Yangus's Armour Class (which was 17) in order to make a hit, which he narrowly managed to accomplish with a roll of 12, plus his melee attack modifier of +6. Then he dealt 2d8 of damage to my rescuer, rolling a four and a five, thus causing Yangus to lose nine of his precious HP points of vitality.

Which meant, basically, that things were getting pretty _dicey _up in here…


	30. Chapter 30

**[AN: Wow! It has been over one year and thirty chapters since I first set out on this writing odyssey. I have learned so much about myself since that time and I feel like I'm continuing to grow as a person and learn about myself and my characters through my writing. Thanks for all the reviews, they're really helpful! Even the negative ones inspire me to do better! :) P.S. The (unofficial) soundtrack to this chapter is "Turquoise Hexagon Sun" by Boards of Canada, so feel free to give that a whirl while you read this, if you feel so inclined. uwu. Peace out girl scout!]**

* * *

"Shrek?"

"…"

"It's _you_, isn't it?"

"..."

"I _know_ it's you."

"Aye, lasseh. It's me. It's Shrek."

"Oh, god. It... it's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Aye. Comin' up on two years now, lasseh."

"Friff. You know..."

"Mmm?"

"You know, I've had _so much_ inside me all these years."

"Ooh aye?"

"This heckish vortex was born inside of me that day, and even now it whirls around, nauseatingly, slicing at the inner walls of my being, chipping away at this dam that has kept everything bottled up for so _friffing_ long... "

"..."

"_So many words_, Shrek. A cyclonic flurry of piercing inner words, all crying out for the blessing of articulation, all for you."

"..."

"These past two years, since that day, I've been… I have been _drowning in oxygen_, Shrek."

"…"

"And yet...now here we both are... And I find I have nothing to say."

"Yeh don't have teh say anything, lasseh. I'm here 'till Thursday."

"…"

"…"

"Shrek...where _are_ we? Last thing I remember...the sky was burning? What the heck? Was that all just a dream, then?"

"..."

"Is _this_ a dream?"

"..."

"Speak to me, Shrek."

"We're in the Astral Sea, lasseh."

"..."

"Yeh see that lake, Melanie? Just in front of where we're sitting?"

"I...I think so. I think my eyes are beginning to adjust."

"Yeh see all the stars reflected in the lake?"

"Yeah..."

"Those aren't stars, lasseh."

"..."

"They're planes of reality. Each one of those dots in the lake represents an entire universe, pretty much. Every one of them is a different reflection of reality. _Shards_, if yeh will."

"This is a lot to take in..."

"Aye. Takes a wee bit to get yeh head around."

"Gee whiz. You know, I can see better now. It's... beautiful, isn't it?"

"That it is, Melanie. And yes knoo how ye see them as circles?"

"Yeah?"

"That's 'cos yeh seein' the entire lifetime of each individual reality, lasseh. Formation to destruction. All _sim-ul-tan-eous-leh_."

"Wow. This is... wow."

"Some say time is a wheel, or a flat circle. Now I don't knoo about that, but I dooo knoo that when yeh see a universe from a detached perspective, see all that was and is and will be at the same time, it sorta looks like a _perfect zero_, lasseh."

"So... which one is _my_ universe?"

"Yeh see where I'm pointing meh finger?"

"Aye... Um, _yes_."

"..."

"It's so _far away_..."

"..."

"What's happening to it? Shrek. The universe is like...it's, um..."

"It's _fragmenting_, Melanie."

"..."

"Which is why yeh need to goooo back... Teh save it."

"How?"

"Yeh need teh wake up soon."

"_Friff_."

"..."

"Friffing _friff_. Finally we're reunited and it's just a friffing dream. So much for friffing closure."

"Yeh in a _coooma_, Melanie. Soon yeh must wake up. The world is countin' on yeh the defeat Jenny Death and the Lords of the Planes."

"..."

"Yeh _daughter_ is countin' on yeh."

"..."

"..."

"Oh yeah. I'm preggers, aren't I. Friff. I need to find Legolas..."

"Yeh mean the baby daddy? Ooh aye. That might be a tad _difficult_, lasseh..."

"What do you mean?"

"The fragmentation might make it difficult. Yeh might be separated from many of yeh old friends. And by more than just _distance_, lasseh."

"I... I think I get the gist... I'm in a different plane of reality now, from them. Like my own little world. Even when I wake up. Is that it?"

"..."

"Shrek...I feel dizzy. I think I'm beginning to wake up..."

"Ooch."

"Shrek?"

"Aye, Melanie?"

"I need you to answer something for me. Please."

"I'm all ears, lasseh."

"Why did you cheat on me?"

"..."

"Goddamn it, Shrek. Answer the friffing question before we lose each other again forever."

"Melanie I... Truth be told, I was getting bored of our relationship. But I liked yeh a lot and I didn't want to break yeh heart..."

"..."

"And then there was that talking donkeh friend of mine and his nice ass..."

"That pun was contemptible."

"And one thing led to another and..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"It was _wrong_ of meh, lasseh. It was stupid and solipsistic and immature. And there isn't a wee day in the friffing swamp that goes by without meh _looooathing_ mehself over how much I hurt yeh."

"..."

"I'm _sorreh_. Melanie. Please accept meh humble apologeh."

"..."

"..."

"I forgive you, Shrek."

"What was that? Lasseh, yeh _fadin_'!"

"I forgive you..."

"_Melanie!_"

* * *

I forgive you.


	31. madonna and child

Legola and Aragorn were in the throes of some pretty hardcore Hendrix-type psychedelic jamming when Gimli stumbled through the kaleidoscopic venetian bead door curtain things (like the ones in 60s technicolour goodtimes psychedelia) that led from the kitchen to the studio where all the rocking out always went down. Without speaking a word Gimli-san ushered his three guests – his cousin, Gilma; her sort-of-sometimes gf Zareen the friffing owl-princess; and Makkan the guard, who was sorta cruising along for the ride – onto bean-bag couches aswirl with colour. Legola and Aragorn were still furiously thrashing at their guitars in a vaguely phallic motion as the newcomer-type fellows perched themselves. Gimli pulled his own axe-guitar (geddit?) from the mantle or some friff and played a couple of bluesy bars. But Legola was having none of it. His hard-rock trance came unravelled, suddenly, like when you intercept a suspicious message and, in a second, you're hit with the panging realisation that years of romantic declarations were all just a pose. Frustratedly, Legola stubbed out his silly-stick (which is totally a euphemism for that dank mara-jade) onto a passing velvet lava lamp-shade, which didn't catch aflame or anything like that because this was the 1Q60s.

"What are these crazy cats doing up in this popsicle stick over here?" Legola shouted in a New Jersey drawl, indicating Gimli's fellows, who had made themselves at home and were drinking Pepsis on the couches. He spun his guitar around to his backside like in rock operas.

"Peace out, bruh!" Aragorn mediated. "These cats be cool cats!"

"But how cool they be?" Legola intoned, groovily. Some feedback was churning on from an upturned amp somewhere. It sounded like Glenn Branca, who tbh is a dork and totally overrated.

"They be kin," growled Gimli. "Kin…and friends of kin…be good enough for me, so they be good enough for ye."

Legola flipped up his loveheart shades to reveal his more aggressive dodecahedron shades underneath, squinting to scrutinise the newcomers. He cleared his throat, but irritation still bubbled within him like Pepsi and totally not like Coke, which is inferior.

"Aye, I recognise Gimli's cuz," grooved Legola. "And the literal bird seated astride. Zareen, be it?"

"Yo," vibed Zareen the owl.

"But what of the lanky fellow just beside?" investigationed Legola. "Weareth he the mark of our freaking foewoman JENNY DEATH?"

Legola leapt into the air and strummed a legendary power chord, which I assured you is a very difficult thing to do. Then he did a double backflip and shredded some with his tongue.

All eyes were now fixed on Makkan.

Makkan coughed awkwardly, and took an intense ol' swig of his Pepsi Maximum.

Then spake he: "Oh, I've decided to desert from the ranks of Jeane Morte and her avaristic comrades. I saw that their regime has some very problematic elements to it (such as enslaving the world et cetera), so I decided to abandon ship and fight for a less problematic cause. The cause of Good.

Have

I

Come

To

The

Right

Friffing

Place?"

Legola just did a swishing motion with his hands.

"Mayhap. You may have cut ties with JD and joined the Good Team, but are you… are you _pop-punk_ enough for the likes of us?"

The elf-fellow's words sounded almost like… a _challenge_…

The challenge basically more or less preyed on her pride, as it were, in the way that challenges do so often tend to do. In a moment of brilliant and transcendent clarity, Melanie T'Starlight von Goldenswallow found herself in the 160x144px Game Boy Color screen. But with a backlight—that's the brilliant part of the clarity. Brilliant in terms of light/lumens/general illumination, rather than the more figurative _brilliance_ that tends to refer to intelligence or capability in some way. You understand, Kind Sir. Verily we doth continue.

The challenge, (in a way distantly reminiscent of the great Renaissance-era artwork we have available to us on the internet in _anno domino _2015_) _gnashed its semi-divine teeth and sunk them into her cerebral cortex. The problem that arose, then, was more of a figurative chronological-spatial issue rather than an actual wound. Logic to the wind, we do _doth_ continue.

Before herself was the opening screen of wildly unpopular 1987 video game Shadowgate Classic, the screen itself being something to the effect of a goddamn gate or castle or something, perhaps the player awakens already within the confines of the castle I am not quite sure I recall. Anywho, Melanie awoke after a brief stint in the realm of the unconscious and her hand—kid you not, rofl—was that obnoxious little hand pointer-thing one is forced to reckon with in these point/click adventures. So here we have before us a room, a gray, stone room, something that sounds suspiciously like a dragon or the literal maws of Inferno in the background, in the distance, I mean, and we have a suit of armor and other appropriately 80s-fantasy-tale-like items strewn about.

Something like a carpet, yeah.

Rather—a rug.

Meladoodle attempted to navigate the pointer-click device to the suit of armor and it fell to pieces. The game attempted to insult her under the thinly veiled guise of advise. It said something bitchy like "really, now?" and she was somewhat discouraged.

Anyway there was a plot device and she won the game, congratulations, the kingdom was quite glad to have their princess home, my god how long was she gone?

"Lady Melanie, my liege, your grace—I have question—does it make sense to call you _your_ grace really where does that phrase hail from?" asked a menial and probably disposable side character.

"We were interested in some FROOT LOOPS," she cried in reply from her throne, invoking the royal We such as the Pope might haveth do.

"AT ONCE," echoed her alter-self from across the throne room, who was really her exact image but the mirror image.

The menial and probably disposable side character scampered away in true Pathetic Wretch style, much like that poorly-dressed impoverished individual who opens many faux-gothic films set in freshly-industrialized/Victorian London and then is never to be seen again. That's the vibe we're going for here—Sweeney Todd, essentially, or Tim Burton's movie about Jack the Ripper whose name escapes me every _damn_ time.

Anyway she came back with some Froot Loops and Melady (geddit ha lady + melani?) baptized the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air's new daughter with the almond milk and fed the soggy cereal bits to the tax collector who lived in the dungeon.


	32. Chapter the Thirty-Second

The house's back porch was aglow with orange fireflies spinning and dancing and mating dizzyingly. Suspended in place, levitating four feet above the ground, at the edges of the construction, were a series of incandescent orbs, radiating a warm turquoise. Amidst this nocturnal lightshow was one Legola of Mirkwood, who was sitting on a wicker chair and sipping lapsang souchong and reading Thomas Pynchon's seminal hyperrealist novel _Gravity's Rainbow_ (1973) in a kind of transfixed stupor.

Enter one Makkan, currently a guest at the residence of Legola and Co., if you'll recall.

Without looking up from his book, Legola perceived Makkan's presence, but did not acknowledge it for quite some time. A tentative awkwardness hung in the air. There was a spare seat beside Legola; Makkan remained standing.

Finally, after a few minutes of manufactured silence, Legola spake up: "Can't sleep?"

Makkan shook his head measuredly. "Strange dreams."

Legola made a 'take-a-seat'-type motion with his hands. Makkan complied.

"Listen, bro," Legola began. "Sorry I was kinda… suspicious about you earlier."

"Nah, bruh, it's totes cool," Makkan mirrored Legola's charismatic nature and manner of speech, which was a thing Makkan did to fit in because he'd never had a very strong sense self.

"Gnaaaaarly," Legola growled, not unpleasantly. "I've been kinda angsty of late, and to be honest I'm not sure why. I take it out on fellows I don't know that well; you bore the brunt of it to-day. But that's a pretty friffed-up excuse for mistreating guests. Particularly those who are potential allies in our epic struggle against that evil spriggankin foe of ours. We need all the help we can get."

He offered his hand to Makkan. To shake, presumably.

After a few seconds of deliberation, Makkan took it. But Legola had a much firmer grasp than did Makkan, so it got kinda awkward. But the symbolism of the intention was still apparent and, highly appreciated.

"I'll be a good ally to y'all," Makkan affirmed. I may have been a mere lowly guard, but I still got to know JD well enough… not to mention the layout of her evil fortress-tower-type place."

"That's just the kind of," Legola made jazz hands, "in-for-may-shun we're gonna need to infiltrate that popsicle stick. But vibe it with the others later. We'll come up with a foolproof plan, yo."

Another silence pervaded, though this one was softer, no longer edged with unease. Legola returned to his book. Makkan gazed past the floating orbs and glowing bugs, outwards to the abyssal darkness of whatever lay beyond the perimeter of the property. He thought he saw the outlines of some twisting trees yonder. Above them was a black sky, illuminated slightly by dim, flickering stars. The whole scene, taken in at once, with all the subtle and conflicting lights, felt like either a low-key disco or a neo-noir film.

After a spell, Legola once again broke the silence. "So dawg, you said you have weird dreams, too?"

"Yeah, dawg," spake Makkan. "They're… pretty unsettling, for sure. Not sure if I'd go so far as to call them _nightmares_, exactly, but…"

"There's an underlying feeling of, like, _malice_," suggested Legola, "permeating the atmosphereof the dream but not its actual contents?"

"Aye," drawled Makkan in that indeterminable accent of his. "Like a horror film soundtrack playing over a non-horror-type film. Alters the significance of what you're seeing. Gives at eerie new edge. So… uh, what kind of creepy friff do you usually dream about?"

Legola seemed to take a few moments to process his response. He took a heady swig of his lapsang souchong, placed his book down upon his lap, and sighed purposefully. "Uh… okay. So there's this one recurring dream. I'm with this girl. I don't think I recognise her face from anywhere, but in the dream she's… she means a lot to me, you know? Anyway, so we're taking a walk around the grounds of some castle, somewhere. I can tell we're both feeling pretty down. There's a palpable sense of anxiety in the chill evening air that courses through the void betwixt our faces, you know? It's almost unbearable. I think the girl is pretty. I feel enamoured with her. But also disgusted. And saddened. And confused."

"Ambivalent?" offered Makkan.

"Exactly that, my dude. I feel so many different things for this one girl. And usually I'm the chilliest bruh you'll ever meet. But it feels like… once we finish our walk together, I'll just dissolve into my base components (which, obviously, are Mithril Atoms, because I am Elven) and scatter to the encroaching mist of night. And we're talking, me and the girl, but the words aren't flowing. Our conversations used to _sing_, I remember, my dream-self does. Even our spoken words used to flow like poetry. But now we've come to our logical conclusion, whatever our relations happen to be. Or they _will_, as soon as we've finished going for this walk."

"Do you feel like you can delay the walk?" asked Makkan, by this point genuinely curious. "Maybe stop for a while? Give her a hug, even?"

"The thought occurs to me," continues Legola, "as we continue to walk, our footsteps in sync, and to speak substanceless words that strike at each other like vicious mockeries of our former closeness. I think, maybe I can escape this. Maybe things don't have to end between us, not just now. But then I also notice… I don't _see_, exactly, but I do _perceive_… this cowled figure, who's watching us in the distance, obscured by the fog and the blackness of night. And he gives me the howling fantods, my dude, just the whole vibe he's giving off. And I know in my heart that if I stop walking, the figure will approach me and rend my heart from my Elven body, and that will be it. I have a predetermined path to follow, and so does the strange girl, and the destination is unpleasant for both of us, but to deviate from it would mean an even worse fate for us. So we do what we must do: we walk towards the inevitable sadness that awaits us at the end of our path. Sometime before we reach our destination, the dream kind of just _ends_. And that's it."

More silence. The floating orbs seemed to be dimming. As their light receded, the glowing bugs seemed to grow more adventurous, and began to encroach upon their space, the inches of void between the two fellows. Makkan didn't mind. He noticed there was something ethereal about the way Legola's smooth face was cast in the warm glow of the critters' pulsing abdomens. Or whatever.

"Wow. Quite an intense dream," Makkan enthused, low-key. "So…" his words tentative and cautious, but full of a kind of groundless yet unshakable hope that the two somehow experienced dreams of the same girl; the very same girl he, Makkan, had frequently had egoless imaginings of, from a very young age. The girl he yearned for: not in any overtly romantic or sexual way, but rather the way a depressed or anhedonic person desperately yearns for a kind of wholeness of self, after years of dealing with schemata and ciphers, "do you remember the girl's name, at all, by any chance?"

Legola shook his head, though the same piercing name simultaneously entered both their souls as the silence resumed, and they turned their gazes once more out to the encroaching darkness, and drowned themselves in the vast and stormy oceans of their own haunted musings for the remainder of the night:

_Melanie T'starlight von Goldensdawn_.


	33. The GrandVentures (haha) of Sakura

Your name is Sakura Tsubasa-Pines, arch-rival to Melani T'Starlight von Goldensdawn. You have long brown hair that reaches your waist and you're pretty skinny except for your stupid boobs and butt ): You have piercing green eyes which come from your British side (You're half Japanese half British. You just moved to Domino City because your parents have a multibillion dollar corporation… oh wait (sad smile) you keep making that mistake. The truth is that your parents both died in a freak lawnmower accident last week and it's your duty as the heir to the Tsbuaba-Pines family fortune to come take care of your corporation, and its headquarters are here in Domino City. So here you are, ready to put everything you know about C-level executive roles into use. you have your own apartment which is just one bedroom and a small kitchen and a living room and a sunroom + balcony, but personally I think that's enough for you. Just you in here, afterall! You don't need too much space. All you do is… Well… (shrug) you play card games.

The Tsubaa-Pine fortune is a direct result of some important advancements in technology used in the popular card game Monsters Duel; your main competitor is Kaiba Corp. but we pulled some strings with Interpol and now antitrust laws don't exist in Japan, so you're interested in joining to form Tsubae-Pines-Kaiba Corp. You got pretty damn good at Monster Duel growing up, since it's all you ever had to do for fun. You weren't really popular at your old high school because people thought you were too pretty + scary to talk to ): it's okay though because now you're starting at Domino High School, and this is a great opportunity to start fresh! _I hope I can make some friends today! _you think as you pull on your uniform, which is a blue skirt and a collared shirt that barely fits over your chest ): _Ugh, am I really gonna have to wear this every day forever? _Yeah, it sucks. You roll your eyes at your reflection and grab a granola bar. You lock the door behind you as you head outside and put your walkman headphones in as soon as your feet hit the sidewalk. _I__'__ll have to save up for a Honda Civic,_ you think to yourself, chewing and staring at nothing.

Sudenly, you snap out of your reverie as a man in a blue coat nudges past you and hits your shoulder. You both pause.

"Watch where you're going," he says sporadically; he bites into his own granola bar which looks like Honey N Oats (wow twins) and then stomps on off before even making eye contact or offering a humble apology. Wow. Dick.

_Wow. Dick,_ you think, grumbling something about rude people to yourself. He doesn't appear to hear you and continues on his way, which is probably for the best because tbh he looks like a total dick. "I would never have a crush on a guy like that," you say to no one in particular.

Anyway, you get to school and go to the Office to grab yourself a gosh darn class schedule. You go over the schedule but it doesn't make a lot of sense because you've literally never seen this building before. Anyway you go to class. Anyway fast forward and holy shit the guy in the blue coat! ! He walks in a second or two before the bell rings (_Wow, almost late, wow,_) you think, and he sits behind you in the desk behind you. Who would have thought that he would end up in your homeroom class? How random. You can feel his eyes on you the whole time the teacher is going on about high school mathematics (algebra I guess? Actually calculus you're in the smart people class) and they bore through you like the blue eyes of a white dragon. You start sweating in your shitty uniform that no actual school would maintain ever. _What is he looking at me for? _ you think, since you know he is looking at you (you can see his reflection in the chalkboard). You reach behind your head to make sure your hair isn't sticking up even though that's unlikely considering its length. After a while you give up wondering why Kaiba is staring at you and you try to actually pay attention in class but that's impossible haha math sucks.

Anyway after class is over you all but scramble for the door, you reach for the door like Katniss Everdeen reaches for a bow + arrow when the hunger games start, like that moment where she literally reaches and before that she's running etc. you know the part I mean. You manage to get out to the hallway and you start trying to get your brain to tell you the location of your next council meeting class which is a class for professional high school students. You are about to learn this information from your brain when all of a sudden—OOF!

Blue jacket dick!

"Hey. wWatch where you're going," he scowl-growls. You roll your eyes so much they fall out of your head and probably cause a three-car pileup when a rollerblader accidentally runs into them on the street outside Domino High School. You tug at your super uncomfortable skirt jesus christ why does this school have this goddamn uniform and does Tea even wear it in the first episode? I can't recall. Anyway, you are like nope.

"Nope," you say.

"What?"

"Nope. I am not dealing with you and your bs behaviour today; I came here to study and to manage the affairs of my corporation, usagi-PInes corp, and we are interested in merging with Kaiba corp. Sorry. Unless you're seto Kiaba, I'm not really interested in pursuing a conversation with your holiness." You say your holiness like a joke because it's a joke.

"I am Kaiba comma Seto. Didn't you hear my name when the teacher did role call?" he smirks.

"No actually. Okay do you want to get a smoothie or something? I guess that's a good thing to dow hen you're trying to start a multitrillion dollar joint corporation that will in all actuality expand into interstellar travel one day"

"Yeah okay."

You guys headed for the front door of the school to go get a smoothie (actually two smoothies) (actually one let's be romantic) and on the way he was like, hey "what was your name again? what did you say your name was?"

"I'm Sakura" you say

"sorry what? I Had my walkman headphones in," he asks again since he had his walkman headphones in.

"Oh, that's okay. I'm Sakura," you say, taken by his piercing blue eyes like the blue eyes of a blue eyes white dragon "What was your name again?"

"The name's kaiba. seto kaiba, " he says with a laugh at his own joke wow A+ good one Kaiba boy!

"oh okay." you say.

TO BE CONTINUED…s


	34. Chapter 34

So to your profound surprise, the date actually starts out pretty well! uwu

After class + the billion extracurricular afterschool clubs you're inevitably a member of (because this is Japan after all) come to an end at the end of the day, you and Kaiba head to Domino City Mall to discuss business. Even though you're both rich capitalists who have limos + transformers + shit you both decide to hit up the subway and catch an underground how you say bullet train. But like it's also an underground train as well as a bullet train. It's a little scary because there are creepy otakus who also ride the underground at this time of day. Otakus are basically creepy men in their mid-20s who never wash or shave and jerk it to weird ecchi anime shit on laptops they bought from their grandmothers' inheritance money instead of going to school and getting real jobs and having real girlfriends. Your visible-even-thru-yr-tight-sailor-scout-school-uniform boobs are probably driving all the otakus on the train _wild_ with lust by now! But as you + Kaiba sit down you notice Kaiba's angular jawline and feel reassured that he could probably headbutt any approaching creep and probably inadvertently decapitate him in the process with his chin. What a friffing cutie. Besides, you don't need any cute blue-jacketed boy capitalist to protect you from smelly old otaku, anyway!

You've got your _deck._ Every couple of minutes you feel around in your comically unpractical handbag to check that your _deck_ is still securely within. Once upon a time your late granduncle handed you his late brother's (your grandfather's) tournament-winning _deck_ in a scene heavily reminiscent of the infamous "pocket watch" scene in _Pulp Fiction_ (1994). You're pretty sure your granduncle also went into some shit about _friendship_ and _love_ as well, but you try to zone out when it comes to that stuff most of the time because that way it's easier to succeed in today's dog-eat-dog world of global corporatism when all you focus on is _power._

Like, for instance, Seto Kaiba is a how you say _major hottie_ and all, but really all you can think about when you see his face is all the dazzling _wealth_ and _influence _you could acquire if only you merged your corporation with his. You're pretty sure that Kaiba's even b.f.f.s with one of Murderdock's tadpole-like spawn, meaning you'd be able to let pretty much whatever underhanded corporate shit fly without any fear of scrutiny from the public eye. As much as you'd like to say that Kaiba's preposterously fire jawline + seductively cool eyes set your normally composed + calculating heart into instant _dokidokimode_, what you _really _love about him is all that he can do for _you_.

In a similar kind of way, you've learned to eschew _the heart of the cards_ in favour of sheer hedonism and an insatiable lust for success, and so far they've served you _very well indeed_. You have emerged as one of the top duellists in your province, overshadowed only by the elusive and enigmatic Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn, whom you've always thought of as kind of a _skank_, anyway. And besides, she seems to have gone A.W.O.L. a while back now, making you the Monsters Duel champion in all but name, which is dandy, but not quite dandy enough to take your mind off kicking her butt at every conceivable opportunity.

So but then the train arrives at Domino City Mall Station, as heralded by a beatific chiming sound and a robotic voice that proclaims, _"Now arriving at Domino City Mall Station, hajimimashite."_

"This is our stop!" you squeal.

"So it would seem," he replies in that cute no-nonsense way of his.

But just before you exit into the mall some ludicrous greasy rotund otaku fellow bars the automatic door with his outstretched arm, preventing you + Kaiba from alighting. Which is very mean and inconsiderate. You think in a moment of terror that he's about to John Lennon your asses right here and now, but then he simply opens his mouth and speaks:

"Well well well…" he sneers in a nasally voice that sounds suspiciously like a 4Kids dub. "Seto Kaiba and Sakura Tsubasa-Pines, two duellists of _considerable_ _renown_…hanging out at the _mall together_… Now _why would that be?_"

"No concern of yours, friff-brain," Seto Kaiba coolly deescalates the situation.

"Whoop whoop," you chime in for encouragement.

"Oh but it _is_ my concern," croaks the Otaku. "I've been searching far and wide for a good Monsters Duel challenge, and it seems like I've found the perfect one!"

"_Far and wide?_" chides Kaiba. "Looks to me like you've barely even left your mother's basement."

The fellow seems visibly shaken by the mockery, and slams the suspended carriage door deep into the bowels of the train somehow, probably causing several billion _Yen_ worth of damage in a single instant.

Just then you see that the otaku jerk has a cohort, who seems much skinnier and more composed than his fellow, but he is probably also a huge wanker when it comes down to it (oops looks like your British side is showing there, Sakura-chan ;). His fellow emerges from the platform just behind us, which by the way looks like veritable vaporwave cover art, complete with a black-and-white chequered tile floor, obviously plastic busts of obscure roman emperors strewn around the place without any rhyme or reason, walls papered with ironic pop-art mosaics depicting reimagined scenes from the classic N64 game _Super Mario 64 _(1996), pitch-shifted Diana Ross songs wafting from invisible intercoms, a large fountain with what appears to be _actual dolphins _flipping around frantically and performing for strangers' coins; all underneath an impossible pixelated pink cloudy sky (impossible because you're in an underground station beneath a large shopping mall, if you'll remember; but still somehow happening).

So but anyway in tandem they both produce their Monsters Duel decks and declare, in a "barbershop quartet" style of vocal harmony (only more like a barbershop _duo_, since there are only two of them, haha), "Seto Kaiba, Sakura Tsubasa-Pines, verily do we challenge ye to a _double-duel_."

At this, Kaiba smirks opportunistically, and in a guttural Gregorian hymn-type voice responds, "Challenge accepted, _frifflords._"

"Very well," responds the first otaku, whose name btw is Josef K. "Meet us outside the Dishwasher Store in exactly _one hour_."


	35. Chapter 35

Kyubey. Life of my light. Fire of my nether-region. My sin. My soul. My souldier. Kyooo-bae. Like a field of stars spilled against the infinite blackness of infinity like a glass of spilled almond milk. In space. K. Y. U. Bey. Kyubey. Man, what a cutie. I couldn't help but think of Senpai Kyubey, even when I was supposed to be working on my calculus assignment that was due tomorrow. There was something about her* droopy big ears and blood-red eyes and the gold sonic-like rings around her ears and that fluffy tail that was just so gosh darn irresistable! She's like an evolution of Eevee that was hidden away on account of being too /sexy/ for the Pokemon video games and cartoons and stuff. They wanted to keep it G-rated but luckily, THE REAL LIFE IS NOT G_RATED! :3 ;3

So anyway I walked into the kitchen of the airship (yeah, I live in an airship, it's a temporary arrangement) to fetch a glass of sarsaparilla to cure my dehydration when I guess I must have been sighing too loud or blushing too bright because who should comment but my roommate? My roommate's name is Falxian and he lives with me on the airship (he own's the airship) and he's a half-elf. Just then he was cleaning up the dishes.

"Looks like someone's in love" Falxian commented dryly.

"Ha ha ha. No way. Dude! Ha he." I laughed it off with panache.

He looked me in the eyes in a very tsundere manner. "Melanie-chan, I've seen that look in a thousand pairs of eyes. And I have inspired it in many more, all throughout my dark past. I know the look of ai." (ai means "love" in Japanese guys, get a thesaurus, geeze)

"..." I ellipsized silently.

"Let me guess... it's that cute incubator in our year." said Falxian with that "bitch I told you so" look of his.

I grunted in resignation.

"Her name is KYUBEY" I clarified expoundingly. "Incubator is a racial slur and I will not have it spoken on my airship."

"It's _my_ airship, and besides, I thought that was the accepted term among actual Incu-"

"Shut the friff up, knife-ears." I bellowed. "HUB/BLOG says it's problematic now and that's all there is to it."

There was a moment of silence as Falxian continued to scrub at this one dish, which must have been unscrubbable or something because he'd been at it for a while.

"I suppose you'd like to know how me met, Kyubey and I," I sighed heavingly, taking a seat and sliding up to my roomie. Flashback harp sounds reverberated and the room began to ripple like a pebble on a lake.

"Uh, yeah, why not," he responded dishwashingly.

"Well, it all started when watashi was heading to homeroom the other week. I was running late because I'd been smoking pocky in the ladies's room (don't tell my mom) when whom should I run into the hallway but..."

FLASHBACK FLASHBACK FLASHBACK!

* * *

* YES I KNOW KYUBEY IS MEANT TO BE A BOY IN PUELLA MAGI MADOKA MAGICA BUT I THOUGHT I'D LIVEN THINGS UP BECAUSE THAT'S SILLY, RIGHT? IN FACT, I GATHERED THREE OF MY BESTEST GFFRIENDS (ewww not like that) TO WATCH PMMM AND WE !A!L!L! AGREED WITH ME THAT KYUBEY WAS MEANT TO BE A GIRL AND SHOULD STAY THAT WAY, NO MATTER WHAT THE FOOLISH "CANNON" HAS TO SAY ON THE MATTER. OUR CANNON IS STRONGER THAN ANY FOOLISH ANIME JUST TO DISAGREE WITH ME PUNK AND LET'S SEE WHAT EVENTUATES. HUH?!


	36. Chapter 36

FLASHBACK! FLASHBACK! FLASHBACK!

"K-k-kyubey-chan!" I stuttered as Kyubey jumped up on my shoulder.

Suddenly my nose was bleeding and I had a vein popping up on my forehead.

"Youtashi should see a doctor about that, Melanie-chan," Kyubey uttered with concernation.

"That's not the kind of doctor I need right now," I said internally, like a voiceover, so Kyubey couldn't hear me. Wow, what a cutie!

I couldn't believe that Kyubey was actually touching my shoulder by sitting upon it! It was at that moment that I realized my kokoro was going dokidoki for her, you know? The background turned into a field of animated lovehearts against a pink background, which my counsellor says means I'm hallucinating again and I should book an appointment with her.

BUT HOW COULD THAT BE?

I had never been attracted to a woman until now. Before this time, I had been attracted to the mens. Like Shrek, that cuckolding jerk, had stolen my heart with his masculine panache. And there had also been that elf fellow… what was his name again? I think I ought to remember who he was because it seems important somehow, but my memory is hazy because I'm kinda a ditz, lol. Even though he was totally a pretty boy, he was still a boy. But I don't want to talk about that. Why am I talking about that? KYUBEY owned my kokoro of kokoros now, and she was a…well, a _she_?

Was it possible that I could maybe be a …. _Bishoujo_?

As we entered the homeroom everyone was making a ruckus. Some of the students were taunting one of the nerds who was trapped in a cage. One of the kids was swinging from a ceiling fan. A gaggle of girls was watching vocaliods on their iPhone.

"Ah, I love the smell of homeroom in the morning," I vocalized speakingly.

Kyubey jumped off of my shoulder and plopped onto the desk.

"Want to sit beside me?" Kyubey asked me, her eyes a-flutter as she flashed me one of her :3 smiles.

"S-sure!" I stuttered. My face was flush with red lines and comically large sweat drops, and I was amazed Kyu-bae wasn't picking up on those.

Just then, the door slammed open with a wisp of smoke. I saw that it had been kicked down by someone, but the smoke wreathed itself around the figure. Then the mist dissipated (probably the ceiling fan) and I saw the figure was…

Sakura Tsubasa-Pines!

She was smoking a lollipop and surrounded by forest sprites, who were chanting her name like cheerleaders or something. I understood that these were her summons: Y'see Sakura was the second-best Monsters Duel duellist in the province.

The best?

That would be one Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn.

Friffing _me._

Sakura strutted up to me and it looked to me like she had just had a pedicure or done the frick-frack with someone, you know? She had that glow about her tehe. But then she blew lollipop smoke in my face and jeered snidely.

"Well, look whotashi decided to show up today!" she spake.

"What do you mean, loser?" I retorted.

Tsubasa-chan heaved an evil sigh of evil smugness. "Oh, nothing. I just noticed that you barely even show up to school these days. What's the matter, Melanie-chan? Too busy dry humping your half- elf boyfriendo?

"Ugh, Falxian is _not_ my boyfriend!" I adamantly assured.

"Oh _yah_? Not according to the rumour mill's findings!" she divulged. Then she turned her gaze towards Kyubey, who was sitting beside me. "Or have you perchance decided to play for the _other_ team now? Ehehe."

She must have noticed my eyes which were literally throbbing eyehearts (that's what happens sometimes when I forget to take my drops) but I coolly shot down her accusations.

"Are you talking about monsters duel?" I asked. It was true I hadn't played for a while, but that was because I was naturally good at it and didn't need to practice, because training montages are boring and embarrassing for all.

"Yeah." T'subasa flicked lollipop ash on the floor. "We were going to have a rematch, remember?"

"Why don't you back the friff off." Kyubey suggested coolly. "Melanie is a better duellist than you will ever be, and she has more riches than you ever will."

"Hah! I find that unbelievable!" Sakura flashed her gold grills, blinding the classroom.

"Not riches of the _heart_," Kyubey explained shoujoly. "Riches of the _soul_. Riches of _friendship_. Those are riches not even that Kaiba fellow you're copulating with can compare to!"

Sakura seemed momentarily dishevelled to hear that the cat was out of the bag (like, about her and Kaiba-kun, but it was pretty obvious, like, _come on_), but then she retained her cool demeanour.

"Get out of here with that sailor moon shit you deviant," Sakura swore. "Melanie, you and I _will _get that friffing rematch. Count on it."

And then she and her sprites walked away to another desk. I was sad because I could feel the animosity of the situation. But then I felt less sad because Kyubey was rubbing her face against mine until my face was red and lined and I had more sweat bubbles and troubles and toil and troubles with the dehydration. But actually because she was touching me again! Omfg! I could have died. But I didn't. Because I'm still alive to recount this tale and this isn't Pulp Fiction or some nerd shit like that. This is Affliction &amp; Avarice (TM), and we pull only the _honest_ story beats in this here establishment!

"Melanie-chan, don't listen to that loser," Kyubey advised sweetly. "By the way, wetashi should hang out sometime to drink some bubble tea! And play dance dance katamari at the arcade in Domino City Mall!" Then she did that cute anime giggle thing.

"Y-yesweabsolutelyshould," I gasped disbelieving. "How about today, after afterschool club?"

I couldn't believe it. Was this real? Was I hallucinating? Or was senpai asking me out on a D-A-T-E? No sooner had this ship being constructed than it was starting to sail out from the dock!

But like all ships, it can be sunk... by icebergs of happenstance...

"Oh, I can't today," Kyubey said apologetically. "I have to hang out with my gal-pal Madoka Kaname. For, um, secret reasons that I cannot divulge to a mere mortal like you! Hehe :3"

Oh my friffing god?

My eyes turned to spirals and began to twitch.

Kyubey was hanging out with that _skank_ Madoka? Everyone knows she's a lesbian because of the pink hair and kind demeanour (AN: NOT that I have anything against lesbians! I was happier than anyone else when President Obama made #LoveWins happen a few months back ago! Way happier than my dad who just grunted and lit his pipe like an oldtimer but he says he's voting for Trump anyway so who cares what he thinks)! The thought of Kyubey and Madoka caressing each other over sweet nothings was too much to bear, so I rushed out of the classroom and bellowed "I need to goooo!" to hide the tears! I could hear everyone laughing but I care not for those plebeians. I just hope senpai was not among the titterers.

It was only when I was alone later, sobbing on the toilet over the green-eyed monster (see I DO read Shakespeare and I have an education! I played Desdemona in Henry V for school theatre!) that I felt something in my pocket (eww not like that! lol) and noticed that there was a tiny package there, about the size of a standard Monsters Duel card. Intrigued, I slowly undid the little ribbon and the wrapping and saw a card underneath a sticky note.

The note said:

"_Dear Melanie-chan,_

_I am sorry you felt sick or whatever and had to leave class early or whatever that was all about. Sakura and a few others laughed at your misfortunation, but I shot her a mean look because I have your back and I would never abide snide giggles at your expense! I really want us to be good friends (pals, even!) despite the earlier misgivings, so I gave you this gift to tide over the uncool vibes! Don't ask how I actually slipped this to you; better not to ask too many questions when you read something like this, you know?_

_Anyway, I think you'll find this gift useful. I look forward to our friend date sometime soon as well!_

_Smooches!_

_Your gal-pal,_

_Kyube xocoxoccocoxoxo"_

With a vacant smile, I peeled back the note and placed it in my pocketses so I could frame it later.

Now it was time to look at the card. I saw that it was an ultra-rare trap card, which I had been looking for for some time to embellish my Monsters Duel deck! For some reason, even having this card in my possession gave me a really warm feeling of resonance and sunshine. Beautiful, goffick sunshine. For some reason, having this card in my possession made me feel a peace that I had not felt since before I could even remember! Since the olden days, before the times of woe and worry! And it was all thanks to my crush, Kyubey!

The trap card's name?

_Cure to the Affliction._


	37. dolphin plaza

"Nice story, Melanie," Falxian commented when the harp sounds reverberated and the rippling reprised and they were returned to the present day, aboard the airship/apartment. "Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention that your uncle called earlier. Said it was kind of important."

"Oh? Did he say what it was about?" I queried quizzically.

"Nope, he just said to call him back when you can."

"Oh, swell," I responded vacantly, my thoughts still occupied by my cute incubatrix friend. The flashback may have been over, but the feelings continued to linger...as feelings...are wont...to do...

"Anyways, I'm having one of my chica friends over later," Falxian insinuated, "so of course you're welcome to chill here, but things might get loud, just a fair warning."

I had no idea whether he meant loud because they were going to do the frick frack or because they were going to squeal over cute Russian male models on the internet together. That Falxian fellow was a hard one to pin down... Not that it matters of course! Haha.

"Oh, I might go for a stroll for a while," I gesticulated with my words, by turning my words into verbal gestures which convey meaning.

I went to find my parka and doc martens, which were strewn around the place as usual. Then I entered the airship's escape shaft, sliding down a long rope that led to the streets of Domino City. It looked kind of like a stripper pole or a candy cane or something like that. There were weird looks from civilians but sometimes you have to shoulder the brunt of taunting, you know? Vicious winds gnawed upon my exposed face; windblown snowflakes bombarded me. When had winter happened? I pondered.

_Recently..._

I walked around for a while, thinking of Kyubey...

After a while of wandering around nondescript roads and alleys, I wound up on Shenmue Street (try saying that when you're drunk on the mara-jade xD). Shenmue Street was a weird little alley place that made my spidey senses tingle (eww not like that! lol!) because it didn't seem quite real. All the buildings (many of them small shops or curious bars, all packed tight together) seemed to have been constructed under the specific pretense of seeming as close to genuine reality as possible without ever actually being real, and one got the sense of these buildings' exteriors being vaguely incognizant of their own interiors.

_A_  
_queer_  
_ place_  
_ indeed..._

Its narrow road and sidewalks were packed with pedestrians who were usually walking around with a calculated air of purpose, but who didn't ever seem to be headed anywhere in particular. To the unfortunate inhabitants of Shenmue Street, Shenmue street was the entire world, sectioned off from the rest of the universe by invisible walls and frustratingly-positioned gauntlets of buildings which barred exit from specific points.

It was weird, but I kind of liked it here... The totally bizarre, kind of unreal vibe of Shenmue Street helped to distract me from Kyubey.

_Kyubey..._

After a while, though, I felt the need to locate some cheap and nasty dive bar in which to drown my Kyubey-related sorrows... [AN!: I meant in coca-cola! I swear to g*sh that was all I wanted too drink! I'm to young too swig the pill sners and teh flaming mary's, that's for shore! p.s. pls don't tell my mom...] But boy and howdy, I didn't know where the cheapest and nastiest dive bar on Shenmue Street could possibly be! So I went up to a middle-aged South-East Asian lady who was sitting on an innocuous wooden bench on the sidewalk, and initiated dialogue with her:

"Excuse me, ma'am?" (I noticed that my words were not quite in sync with the movements of my lips, which tbh was quite bizarre)

"What is it, young padawan?" asked the lady, immediately glancing up at me, her eyes fixed upon my face in a manner most curious and intense, but not unkind.

"Could you tell me where the cheapest, nastiest dive bar on Shenmue Street would be located?" I asked sweetly.

"Why do you need to know, young youngling?" she probed.

"Well, you see," I ahemmed lyingly, "I need to track down the killer of my father, who killed my father in my father's doujo in a deadly duel. In Kyoto. In Japan."

The lady gazed at me, her curious expression giving way to a more sympathetic one.

"But first I need to track down this one Yakuza gangster who apparently hangs around in only the seediest Shenmue Street bars, because I need to beat him in a game of darts because that's the only way he'll be able to divulge a hidden clue about this guy who apparently used to have a crush on the guy who killed my father while they were both in college, and right now that's the best lead I have on this fellow."

The lady sighed understandingly and pointed to a bar only a few buildings over from where we were conversing. I saw that it was painted in a hot 80s pink and adorned with neon lights in brash secondary and tertiary colours, including one depicting a dolphin perpetually diving into the ocean in a highly dolphinesque manner. On a large LCD screen above the bar doors, an amateurly-rendered polygonal 3D animated dolphin flapped around in a monochrome ocean with some kind of decaying polygonal industrial construction looming in the background. It was almost like one of those animated screensavers for Windows 95 of yore, only the camera kept zooming in and out on the dolphin as it frolicked around in the water. So like, a Windows 95 screensaver featuring cinematography by the lakitus from Super Mario 64, basically.

Following my eyeline, the lady said, "Yes, dearie, that one. That bar be called **dolphin plaza**. A truly disreputable establishment. You'll surely find your yakuza-baka friend there."

I thanked her for her time and she flashed me anime eyes in return, and then without further ado I headed over towards **dolphin plaza**...

_But_  
_ I_  
_ never_  
_ made_  
_ it_  
_there_  
_?_

For as I was walking down the road towards the bar, a silver fox suddenly leapt out of a trash can and leapt into my arms!

"Eww, gross!" I exclaimed. The fox wasn't gross or anything like that, just the fact that it had been hiding in a trash can for so long.

"Pleasure to meet you too, miss Melanie!" replied the fox in a chirpy, almost singsong voice.

"Who are you?" I quizzically queried at the fox. "And how do you know my name?"

"I'm the Foxtable!" replied the fox. "And a lot of people know your name, Princess Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn!"

"Don't wear it out, haha!" I shot back cutely with a radiant uwu. Though the "Princess" thing was new to me, I had no problems being addressed in such a manner.

_Now, if only Kyubey-sama would call me "princess" like the Foxtable just did..._ My kokoro would probably explode! Thinking about the Kyubey made me blush in front of the Foxtable, and I hope the Foxtable didn't misconstrue or anything! Haha!

But the Foxtable fellow just leapt out of my arms and began to circle me for a bit.

"What were you doing heading to the disreputable dive bar, **dolphin plaza** just now?" the Foxtable probed my intent.

I shrugged.

"Friffs and giggles?" I replied weakly.

"That's not the place you want to be heading, miss Melanie!" chimed the fox with a concerned yet affectionate smile. "Why, why don't you accompany me to the Dishwasher Store instead?"

"The... The DSHIASWER SOTREEE?" I asked. "The Sishdasher Snore?"

"The DISHWASHER STORE!" the Foxtable corrected with an infectious enthusiasm.

"But...but... Foxtable-san, I don't even think there is a Dishvasser Strore in this district! How are we to get there?"

But the Foxtable just waved its tail gaily and whistled in a high pitch that I was pretty sure must be pretty much impossible for foxes to reach. Even silver ones!

"Why," the Foxtable beamed, "In the FOXTABALLOON, of course!"

All of a sudden, emerging from the low-res night sky that was probably just a matte painting, a hot-air balloon landed on the sidewalk where the Foxtable and I had been conversing.

"Hop in!" the Foxtable told me as he leapt into the basket, and I felt compelled to oblige. My father always told me that when a talking fox offers you a ride in a hot-air balloon, you gosh-darn well accept the offer and go whereever the heck it wants to take you. _And I wasn't about to let my daddy down now..._

The Foxtaballoon was a pretty cool balloon. It had a face like one of those anthropomorphic cartoons from the 1990s or early 2000s, always seeming to teeter on the edge of the Uncanny Valley, yet floating just above its precipice with a playful and ironic finesse.

As we took to Domino City's polluted night sky, the Foxtaballoon asked me all about the Void.

"Oh, you mean like that John-Paul Satire and Freddy Niche stuff?" I asked.

"Yeparoo!" the Foxtaballoon replied dourly. "Have you ever gazed into the abyss, miss Melanie?"

I had to think about that for a moment.

"I guess I have," I responded, gazing down into the acrid, stygian eldritch abyss of poisonous miasmic spectral vaporous clouds of the Domino City's nightmarishly wretched urban skyline beneath the gibbous elder cyclopean moon [AN: I'm NOT a racist BTW].

"Did it gaze back?" the Foxtaballoon prodded.

"You shouldn't have to feel obliged to answer if you don't want to!" the Foxtable clarificated sweetly as it gazed transfixed at the blazing flame which propelled the flight of the Foxtaballoon.

"Nah, dawg, it's cool," I assured. "I guess the Void has always been gazing at me. Did you know that I was very sick when I was a young girl?"

"No, I didn't!" the Foxtable and the Foxtaballoon replied in perfect, eerie tandem.

"It's true!" I responded. I didn't usually like to talk about my dark past with people, but the Foxtable and the Foxtaballoon seemed like trustworthy folk. "I spent a lot of time in the hospital when I was young. I kept missing out on school because of it. So I became known as 'the sick girl' when I was actually able to attend. I guess that was the void gazing back at me, with a wry and twisted smile."

"Gee willickers!" the Foxtable exclaimed sympathetically. "Did you have many good friends, at least? To help you through the illness?"

I shrugged.

"A couple of acquaintances who were nice to me when I was around. A couple of boys who thought I was cute, apparently, somehow. Probably a sympathy thing. I guess it's pretty hard to maintain a close connection with anyone when you're kind of shifting in and out of their lives, though, you know?"

Then, I guess my new acquaintances must have seen the single tear that rolled down my cheek, even though I brushed it away the second I noticed it. Because I'm not weak. I'm not weak. _I'm not I'm not I'm not_. Maybe it just took me a while to notice that I was crying. Anyway, it suddenly looked as if they were both fumbling for comforting words, and my heart lurched like a tumble-drier, and I suddenly wanted them to comfort me, for them to let their sweet words spill out all over me. But I also _didn't_, you know?

So my words cut through the awkwardness before it got the chance to cauterise:

"But it's OK! Because even through the lonely times, I had friends all along!" I pointed at the side of my forehead, smiling. "In here."

"_We know_," the Foxtable and the Foxtaballoon responded in unison, with a sage, intuitive warmth. It was if we had known each other forever; known each other longer than any of us had even existed...

The Foxtaballoon drifted along silently until the Cilliancrow Street Dishwasher Store was in sight, and then we made a creeping descent as the sound of reverb-heavy experimental ambient music wafted towards us from beyond the store's doors, inviting us to witness the splendorous spectacles that existed within...


	38. Something Relevant Begins to Happen

The Foxtaballoon stayed outside to smoke a cigarette as the Foxtable led me through the doors of the Dishwasher Store, whence we were greeted by a gleaming store interior - the kind of gleam that can barely contain itself, resplendent with gilt edges and iridescent rainbow light, almost blinding to behold. A series of fashionable dishwashers formed a long aisle through which we walked, strutting to the groove of the ambient future funk that blasted through retro subwoofers positioned in strategic points around the store. After what seemed like an hour of walking between the rows of dishwashers, we finally arrived at what appeared to be the cashier's desk, which was manned by a young lady cashier (early 20s, I'd guess) of indeterminate ethnicity [AN: not that it matters!] with short white hair and owl-glasses and a low-key smile of recognition at the Foxtable as it leapt up on the counter and let itself be stroked and scratched around the ears by the cashier.

"Foxtable!" she said, her voice subdued and slightly monotone but with a subtle warmth to it.

"It is good to see you, old friend," the Foxtable responded, before turning to yours truly and introducing us. "Melanie, this is Lexi. Lexi, Melanie."

I waved at the lass.

"'Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am!" I said to the cashier, in the way my dad-king had taught me one time in an unreleased bonus chapter that is only available to the supporters of this story. "I am Melanie T'Starlight von Goldensdawn, human-cyborg relations!"

"I'm Lexi," said the cashier. "Lexi Con. Oh yeah..."

She cleared her throat.

"And welcome to the Dishwasher Store," Lexi said in a mechanical, rehearsed tone. "The Only Place In Existence. Can I help y'all with anything?"

I didn't know exactly what I wanted her to help me with here, but I nevertheless nodded instinctively, and then reached deep into my bountiful cleavage, where I produced a certain Monsters Duel card that I had been keeping there.

_The one that Kyubey had given me..._

"Cure to the Affliction..."

Even though I could barely stand to part with it, I slid the card across the register desk bench counter thing and whispered into her ear loud enough that the Foxtable could still hear (we seemed to be the only three people in the entire store, but my ex always said that I have a flair for the dramatic! lol):

_"Got any specs on this fine number here?"_

Lexi Con held the card up to her face, scrutinising its every minute detail. A wry smile came across her...face.

"As a dishwasher salesperson who is employed to sell dishwashers at the Dishwasher Store, my area of expertise tends to lie predominately in the realm of dishwashers," she explained, to which I nodded understandingly. "But I used to be something of a duelist in my teens... And I do believe I might have a couple of words to say regarding this here rare trading card..."

My ears perked up.

So did the Foxtable's, in a far more natural and less excrutiating way.

A dishwasher churned away in the distance.

"Okie doke," Lexi said finally, before wincing at the fact that she had just ironically said 'okie doke' like come on how eighteen eighty late can you get?

"Okie dokey? You oughta tell me the up-and-up regarding this here M.D. piece right now, ya hear me, dame?" I gumshoed noirly.

I didn't mean to snap; I guess I was just feeling withdrawal symptoms re: the card that Kyubey had given me, mainly because 3 Kyubey 3 had given it to me!

"Alright alright," Lexi finally getting to the point.

She flashed the card in my face and pointed at the place where it said "Labyrinth Card".

"Do you see the place where it says 'Labyrinth Card'?" she asked.

I nodded.

"That means that it's a Labyrinth Card!" she clarified.

I nodded again.

"And what the friff does that mean?" I asked after a couple of seconds, when I realised that I didn't have the foggiest notion about what a Labyrinth Card even was.

"Aren't you supposed to be a Monsters Duel champion, Lady Melanie?" the Foxtable quizzed me quizzically, from atop the counter-till where it sat.

They both gazed at me intently. I felt my face going red, as red as Bernie Sanders' economic policy (my dad said I could use that joke for the fanfiction if I wanted).

"Yeah...so...what?" I ettoed.

"Then you should probably know what a Labyrinth Card is!" Lexi chimed in, agreeing with the Foxtable's gist. "But I'll explain it to you anyway, so buckle up!"

I buckled up. The store-music changed to a Diana Ross remix with Sonic Youth guitars over the top. Cool!

Lexi leaned in close to me. I was about to back the friff away because I wasn't into the yuri stuff except for that slash fic I wrote about me and Kyubey. But to my chagrin I noticed that Lexi wasn't making out with me - she was actually just explaining something to me!

"So here's the sitch," she said in that weird southern twang of hers, "Labyrinth Cards are a very rare and powerful kind of Monsters Duel card. The catch is that they can only be activated at the epicenter of a labyrinth -"

"Oh, you mean like a maze?" I suggested.

The Foxtable rolled its eyes at me.

"No," Lexi deadpanned, "like a labyrinth."

"Oh," I replied.

_But where would I possibly find a labyrinth in Domino City?_

"But where will I possibly find a labyrinth in Domino City?" I asked her.

Lexi's mouth curled into a knowing grin.

"Lucky for you," she said, "Domino City _is_ a labyrinth."

_Oh my god..._

_Did she just do a say of..._

_H'waaaaah?_

_What a revelation!_

"Domino City is... is a... is this some new-age bullfriff?" I queried.

"No, I mean... _literally_. It's a labyrinth. This city is a labyrinth. The universe is a labyrinth, too, but there are labyrinths within labyrinths within labyrinths. And this city is one such labyrinth," Lexi expositionalized. "Have you not ever sensed that yourself? In the stale 3 a.m. winds that cling to city streets? Or in the maw of a black thundercloud that swallows the haze of industry, that blackens the silhouettes of industrial towers and even their glewing lights?"

"N-no..."

"Even your heart is a labyrinth of its own," Lexi went on. "Even your soul, deep down..."

"I thought of a labyrinth of labyrinths," quoth the Foxtable, "of one sinuous spreading labyrinth that would encompass the past and the future and in some way involve the stars..."

"Borges..." Lexi murmured dreamily.

"I love Star Trek!" I interjected.

Lexi and the Foxtable both glowered at me then. Lexi slid the Cure-to-the-Affliction card back across the whatever thing with annoyance.

"OK so..." I tried to get things back on track. "So I need to find the epicenter of the labyrinth that is also the city we're in. Or like, the epicenter of my heart and/or my soul, since you said those are labyrinths too. Then I activate this card and, um... an affliction is cured? What affliction?"

But a part of me knew the answer already.

"I think a part of you knows the answer already, Miss Melanie," Lexi said redundantly.

Suddenly she reached across the c*unter and held out a trembling hand to M. She spoke with an effort, it was an effort to understand her, but what she said

Well actually we never found out what she said, because just then we saw that she had been shot through with a poison dart! The Foxtable and I freaked the friff out, and we noticed that the lights in the Dishwasher Store had changed to become more sinister and shadowy, though we could both feel spotlights beaming down on us from above. We also noticed that the Diana Ross feat. Thurston Moore ditty that was playing in the store had changed to a battle fanfare like in Final Fantasy 7! Just then a group of seven or eight space goblin ninjas sauntered into the room like it weren't no thang. Their leader was carrying nanchucku - nuncuck - nunchucks! and spinning them around his body in a douchy manner. The others were armed too, I guess!

"Fear us!" he screamed. "For we are goblin space ninjas!"

TBH I was a little scared, not that I peed myself or anything. But luckily I had my trusty blade, H*ckrender, which I unsheathed in a dramatic fashion!

But the Foxtable didn't seem to fear them one whit (lol what's a whit?)

"Forgive me, fellows, but you don't seem to be very good goblin space ninjas, do you?" he observed, leaping down from the - and prowling towards them.

"W-what do you mean?" asked the showoffy leader with the nunchucku. "We literally reign supreme!"

"Well, first of all, riddle me this: what kind of spaceman doesn't have a spacesuit?"

I could see that they were becoming visibly shaken by the Foxtable's observation, just like that meme, only there were no bald eagles and nobody got hernias just yet.

"And furthermore," the Foxtable continued, "how could any self-respecting ninjas just waltz in through the front door of the Dishwasher Store? I'm afraid, m'lordshipses, that you appear to be amateurs at best, at least as far as the whole 'space ninja' thing goes."

"Pah!" deflected the lead goblin leader. "We will earn our stripes. With your pelt, Foxta-BABBLE!"

One of the goblins snickered in a Muttley-ish way.

"Now hold on just a microwave minute!" I interfered, still brandishing my blade. "Can't we diplomacize about this for a second? What do you guys want here, exactly?"

"Roll for it," said the DM, and I rolled a twenty-sided die.

But I only got a one! :(

The leader sneered cruelly at my mishap.

"Well, we were going to tell you to hand over the Labyrinth Card that was stolen from us, but it seems your crit fail has forced our hand! Fellow goblin space ninjas, attack these fools!"

"I don't see what attacking yourselves would accomplish!" I taunted, and me and the Foxtable did a high five over the sick burn like in movies.

But now it was time... to defend ourselves... and the heart... of the...


	39. Chapter 39

The coolest thing about being a magical girl like yours truly is that you get the most sick-ass transformation sequences. Even though the animation and soundtrack of my transformation sequence have been recycled _ad nauseum_, it's still a very grand sight to behold. What happened when combat was initiated with the space goblin ninja crew was that the background of the dishwasher store got replaced by a cheap matte painting of space for a minute! I felt power coursing through my body as a white glow enraptured it. An inspiring fanfare with trumpets and everything was blaring in the background, before my normal everyday Japanese sailor schoolgirl outfit (AN: NO THAT'S _NOT_ CULTURAL APPROPRIATION BECAUSE ONE OF MY SCHOOLFRIENDS WHOSE NAME IS HATSUNE MITSUKI-CHAN SAID IT WAS OK TO WEAR IT) was transformed into a special suit of Super Spectral Warrioru Armour! Unlike most fantasy girl armour, this suit of armour was actually kind of practical and not too skimpy, so don't get any ideas you creepy pervs! *~* But then my sword Heckrender was gone so I was able to do a cutesy-pie peace sign with my fingers, as I screamed "SPECTRAL PRINCESS OF TENNIS WARRIOR, TRANSOFORMU!" at the top of my lungs, totally drowning out the music.

But then suddenly I was back in the Dishwasher Store after floating in space, and I needed to get Heckrender back! Just then a ghostly apparition of my OTL Kyubey appeared, and there was a glowing white hole in her chest. So I reached in and pulled out the ghostly spectral warrior version of Heckrender, and kissed the apparition of Kyubey on the cheek before she disappeared into the ether, because this was the closest I was going to come to kissing Kyubey for a while until we started dating IRL or something.

In the throes of my own transformation sequence, I noticed that I had missed out on the Foxtable's transformation sequence, though the end result seemed pretty darn spectacular: The Foxtable was now twice its original size, and its fur was rainbow-coloured. Damn, I wish I'd gotten to watch that, but I'm sure there are like twenty AMVs of it up on YouTube by now!

So anyway, now that they had given us time to do our long and intricate transformation sequences, it was finally time for our enemies to make an attack! The leader goblin with the nanchucku rushed at me, delivering a flurry of blows with his culturally-appropriated weapon. But, despite my full suit of armour, I was still surprisingly agile, and I was able to dodge all his blows like it was a game of DDR. I parried his last attack with my Heckrender +1, and the clash of steel rang out all throughout the Dishwasher Store. To my right, I could see the Rainbow Foxtable tearing at the throat of one of the space goblin ninjas, which seemed to freak the leader out, causing a comically large bead of sweat to fall down his slimy green face.

"What's the matter…_friffer_…" I taunted, as I lunged at the goblin man with my spectral and princessly blade, "feeling a little… _on edge_?"

The goblin laughed emphatically at my joke, which gave me the opportunity to drive the weapon deep through his heart, which was probably not even a real heart, because you have to be pretty damn heartless to steal a precious Labyrinth Card from a True Duellist such as myself.

The goblin slumped to the floor, but I didn't even get a chance to do my victory fistpump as the camera circled me from above, because just then one of the surviving space goblin ninjas fired a flaming crossbow bolt at me! Despite my best attempt at dodging, I realised that the crossbow was like a machine gun, only like a crossbow! So he was firing twenty bolts at once, and I couldn't evade them all! And neither could the Foxtable. We both felt ourselves being pierced through and burned by the Bolts of Flaming Terror. The pain was like nothing I've ever experienced before, so I won't bother explaining it, but it was so bad that I cried out in horror. The goblin kept firing at us as two of his fellows rushed at us with katanas.

_Could this be…_

_The end?_

_Was this story narrated by…_

_A g-g-g-g-ghost?_

But just then, I heard an ethereal holy chanting sound from above, and I saw a silken rope descend from the Dishwasher Store's ceiling, which I just then noticed for the first time was domed.

_Domed…_

_Not doomed…_

_And neither were we…_

Because just then, a party of three brave adventurers slid down the rope! (AN: they didn't get rope-burn because it was silk). I saw that one of them was my roommate, Falxian the half-elf, who was strumming a harp in one hand and brandishing a rapier in the other, which was a pretty impressive feat that not even Joanna Newsom could probably pull off.

"Falxian-kun!" I cried out from the floor where I lay sprawled in agony. "I didn't know you were a Bard!"

Falxian flicked his hair back out of his eyes, all tsunderely.

"I multiclassed," he explained.

"You took music lessons or something?"

"Y-yeah."

Then the other two adventurers finished sliding down the rope. They were both females, and I didn't think I knew either of them from anywhere, but one of them sure seemed familiar…

"Allow my chica friends to introduce themselves as these goblins take a stupidly long time to reload their weapons!" Falxian exclaimed.

"Cin," grunted the first, who was thin and lithe and had dark hair and wielded twin daggers almost as sharp as her facial features. "Cin Aylon. Always a pleasure to rescue someone's ass… And if they're a friend of Falxian's. I'll even do it for free."

"She's a Rogue," Falxian explained to me. "And a hacker."

"And a systems analyst by day," Cin added, "but that's not really important right now."

"And my best friffing friend in the entire friffing world, which is _always_ important," Falxian affirmed, and they fistbumped in a comradely manner.

"Oh, great to finally meet you!" I exclaimed, practically burning to death.

The other stepped forward. She was taller, and more toned, dressed in plate armour and carrying a halberd with electricity coming out of it.

_And she seemed so goshdarn familiar, somehow…_

_And, like painted? Weirdly?_

"And I'm Kaja," she said in a thick accent.

"She's an exchange student from Estonia," said Falxian, "and also a pretty good guardswoman who has taken some Cleric levels as an internship."

_A guardswoman… from Estonia…_

_An Estonian Guardswoman?_

But I had no time to ponder this strange echo from my past, because the goblins were finally ready to attack again!

"Top of the round!" the goblin crossbowman screeched, letting forth a volley of flaming bolts.

But just then Kaja cast an Aura of Protection on the Foxtable and myself, shielding us from harm!

Meanwhile, Falxian was absolutely _shredding_ it on his harp, and despite my wounds, I felt weirdly inspired to keep on fighting. Beside me, the Foxtable slowly got up, ready to make another attack to finish these friffers off.

But just then, I saw one goblin come straight at me, and I didn't have the time to parry his blows!

But just as the goblin raised his katananananda and I was about ready to meet my maker (which is OBVIOSULY the Big Bang, come on guys!), I heard a scream of something that sounded kind of like "SNEAK ATTACK!" and I saw that Cin had dispatched my foe from behind with her daggers! And even though it seemed weirdly counterintuitive for her to yell out like that as she was doing a sneak attack, I still felt very grateful to the lass for probably saving my life!

Now there were just two foes to go (probably; I mean I'm not really that good at counting, you know?) Kaja casually lobbed her electric halberd at one of them like it was a javelin, instantly impaling the goblin.

And then there was one… the crossbowman…

"Friff…" he muttered… "Out of ammo…"

"More like, out of _time_!" I taunted, to the accompaniment of Falxian's black metal harpism. "Tell us, who sent you?"

The goblin desperately bit into his back molar to swallow a cyanide pill, but it turned out it was just a placebo so he didn't die.

"Fiiiine," the goblin whined, dropping his crossbow and getting ready to flee. "The name of my… employer for this mission was… _Jenny Death_!"

We all gasped out loud in unison, even though it really wasn't all that surprising.

"Why does she want to steal my new Monsters Duel card?" I interrogated, because I was somehow right over on his side of the store now, clutching him by his shirt.

"Don't you mean…_her _Monsters Duel card? That was _stolen _from her?"

But then the goblin died Padmely, having suddenly lost the will to live.

"Damn," I muttered hoarsely.

But my mood was soon alleviated by the victory fanfare music, which filled the halls of the Dishwasher Store triumphantly. Dozens of gold coins fell to the floor, which Cin hastily picked up. We could all feel ourselves gaining EXP for the encounter, though none of us were ready to level up just yet.

Just then I remembered Lexi Con, who was still slumped upon the ground, after having been poisoned. "Kaja!" I beseeched, approaching the Estonian guardswoman with intent. "Two questions: First, do you have a friend who is a bull voiced by Tom Hanks?"

Kaja stared at me significantly, in a way that was almost mystical.

"So you _do_ remember something…" she whispered, apparently in awe of my ability to remember things.

"We'll have to discuss all this in an exposition-heavy future chapter," I said hastily, "because I swear I had a dream or something that involved you and a bull with Tom Hanks' voice and a rap battle with the moon. Man, I dunno."

She nodded soberly, seeming to resist the urge to say something profound.

"Second question: do you know how to heal poison? Because the girl over by the sales zone has been poisoned by a dart or something, and it would kind of suck if she were to die."

Kaja sighed.

"I'm afraid my cleric abilities aren't that strong, yet, Princess Melanie," she explained. "I can heal bullet wounds and things, no problem. But poison? I'm afraid that is beyond my power until at least my next level up."

"Heck and gosh," I swore, frustrated by bloodshed.

"But there are people I know who may be able to help. There's an Elven Town not too far from Domino City, implausibly enough. It's a treetop city. They have Elven Clerics there who can assist your friend. But how can we get there in time?"

"Well," I beamed, "we could always take… The Foxtaballoon!"


End file.
